We Live Again: 5 and 6 Expected the Unexpected pt 1 and 2
by Cosmina Inspira
Summary: "Things are not always what they seem." (Goliath; canon Eye of the Beholder ) Originally a two parter due to length. A new gang war grows between the Dracon Mafia and the Yakuza; and Thailog's allies are sent out to steal mysterious items and information. Yet everything will take unexpected turns. And Elisa is not well. The whole time things are not what they appear to be.
1. Chapter 1

We Live Again: Episode 5

Expect the Unexpected Pt. 1: Plots

By Cosmic Inspiration

Disclaimer: The Gargoyles animated series is the property of the Walt Disney Company and Buena Vista Inc, originally created by Greg Weisman. No copyright infringement is intended and not authorized by the copyholders; this author makes no profit and only writes for fun and entertainment. Characters such as Darius, Tommy and Shinji Kimura, and Yakuza characters, and the 'Brooklyn family' are from TGS and credited to the writers and artists of the saga. All original characters are the property of the author Inspiration.

Author's Note: I wish to warn of politically incorrect name calling and indications that may go on in this story, but it is only because that the antagonists of this story are total jerks, so any insult is purely unintentional and I hope the readers still enjoy it. Thank you.

Previously on Gargoyles. . .

Scene of Brode gang invading Dracon's chop shop in Canon episode _Turf_

"That was my *favorite* restaurant!" shouts Tomas Brode as he hits the car roof; restaurant burning in background. (Cannon) _Turf_

Scene of Brode pushed into Dracon's jail cell, they start brawling from Cannon episode _Turf_

"Dracons have owned this town for three generations." Glasses (Cannon) episode _Turf_

"What's 'Yakuza?'" Hudson.

"The Yakuza is a massive crime organization originating in Japan," said Peter, "They've had West Coast strongholds for years, and now they've moved their operations East as well."

"The Yakuza are not to be trifled with," Sata said solemnly, "If you cross any of them, you cross them all. And they do not forgive or forget transgressions."

(TGS) _Guardians_

"Need I remind you of our first priority of preventing a new gang war breaking out. The Dracon Mafia is loosely organized now that Dracon is behind bars again and leadership is scarce. There's a void trying to be filled by other crime organizations, primarily the Yakuza." Chavez

(WLA) _Legends_

"This had better be worth it," Elisa grumbled to herself with an undertone of contemptful annoyance.

She finally pulled her classic Ford Fairlane up next to the dark grimy alley way, dark corners of large and over packed cities renowned for their isolated despairing atmosphere that could hide dangerous gruesome secrets from prying eyes. Matt walked up to her as she slammed her door; a spiteful look graced her beautiful face.

"This had better be good, Bluestone," Elisa snapped spitefully.

"I'm sorry to call you in so soon, partner," Matt cautiously assured her, not wanting to arouse her wrathful irritation further, "But I was sure you'd want to see this."

Fellow uniformed officers and paramedics waited sparsely around the two detectives as they made their way into the dark alley, a repulsive pungent stench invaded their nostrils as they approached a rusty green trash dumpster.

Even before looking inside the open dumpster, Elisa could smell the rotten stink of death mixed in with the usual stink of disposed refuse. Elisa plugged her nose as she braced herself for whatever was rotting in the trash bin; the sight of a bloody mangled corpse greeted her eyes. It took nearly all of her strong will to resist the gag reflex as she looked at the dead body, forcing her observant detective's eagle eye to take in as much as possible. The body had not been dead long, most likely within the last several hours of the night and it was not even yet midnight. The bloody remains of a man could be observed beneath dozens of clean and meticulous cuts, his face barely recognizable but good looking at one time. There was nearly nothing left but torn ragged remains of what may have been an expensive Italian suit that may have cost nearly or more as Elisa's car. At full height the man may have stood more than 6 feet tall and had the build of a retired boxer.

"Recognize him?" Bluestone inquired, Elisa only glared at him through watered over eyes.

"Our boys just IDed him an hour ago. Nickolas Genson, aka Nitro Nicky G."

Elisa's eyes widened at her partner, immediately understanding why he called her. Nitro Nicky G was an expert in explosives and ammunitions for the Dracon Mafia. He was always the one they called when they wanted something blown up. No doubt he was behind the designs for the explosives involved in Dracon's protection racket several years earlier.

"Poor bastard," Elisa said through her plugged nose, "How did he end up in a back alley dumpster?"

"We have our suspicions," Matt said as they walked out of the dark alley, "Last week the Club Lotus was reported to be destroyed, and the guys in Forensics traced the bomb remains to Nicky there."

Elisa rubbed her temples as she breathed the less noxious air, trying to stall the beginning of a small headache.

"Typical," she grumbled, "So this is all you wanted to show me? The dead body of a notorious mobster?"

Matt took a step back from her at her snapped remark. Elisa composed herself as she said, "I'm sorry, Matt, it's just I'm exhausted, nauseous, and sore. It's not 24 hours I get home from my honeymoon and this is the last thing I need to see."

"I know, partner," Matt calmly reassured her, "But anything having to do with Dracon. . ."

Elisa just waved a hand at him.

"Okay, guys, get him out of here," Matt ordered.

The paramedics and other officers soon had the body of the late mobster bagged and prepped for the coroner's office.

Elisa leaned against the wall as she rubbed her eyes, a gurney rolled passed them with the bagged up body.

"Are you okay, Elisa?" Matt asked, "You look awful."

"I'll be fine, I'm just nauseous, probably from jetlag."

"I'd hate to ask you, Elisa, but could you come down to the station and give your statement? Maybe give us an extra hand on this case, at least for tonight?"

Elisa glared at her partner but agreed to his request with a nod, Matt's concern grew as he saw how pale Elisa seemed even in the dim city streetlights.

"Do you think you can drive?"

She was about to give him a retorted answer when her stomach churned and bubbled within her. She gripped her mouth as her cheeks expanded like a chipmunk, a repulsive taste of bile rose at the back of her throat which she tried to suppress. Elisa ran far back into the alley as nauseousness overtook her and she finally upchucked the revolting bile from her mouth, dizziness and nauseousness rolled like a wave over her.

As her head finally cleared, Elisa was not too surprised to find Matt standing by her in support.

"Quinn," Matt called when they finally came out from the dark alley, a blue uniformed and willowy policewoman ran up to them.

Matt managed to find Elisa's car keys in her jacket and had to yank them away from her weak grip when she refused to give them up.

"Quinn, drive Detective Maza here to the station and have the doctor look at her," he ordered as he handed the officer Elisa's car keys, "And be careful with her car, it's a classic."

"Yessir, Detective Brownstone," Quinn said with exaggerated perkiness.

"It's *Blue*stone," he corrected with an annoyed tone of having reminded her several times before.

"Whatever," she brushed off lightly as she gently guided Elisa to her car, Matt shaking his head in annoyance.

The ride to the station was mostly a blur for Elisa, though she was not always sure if it was from the coming and going of a small migraine, or the thought of someone else driving her car, or the unknown police woman's driving. All she could really remember was being buckled in the front passenger seat and seeing the blinding and irritating streetlights flash in her eyes and Quinn stopping at some drug store. It was not long before they finally returned to the 23rd Precinct and Elisa rushed to her desk, eager to get the paperwork over and done with, completely refusing to the see the station doctor.

"Hey, Elisa," Maria said as she saw her friend sit at her desk, "It's good to see you back, but you're not suppose to return to work until after tomorrow night."

"Just thought I'd come get late assignments done, Captain," Elisa said, "And see if I could lend a quick hand with this growing turf war."

"We can always use another pair of hands, Detective," Maria concurred, "But be sure to get some rest afterwards, you're looking a little pale."

"Sure, Captain, I really need a vacation from that honeymoon."

"I know exactly how you feel," Maria said with a small laugh as she returned to her office.

Elisa rubbed at her temples as her slight headache became worsened by the brightly lit computer screen and the tiny lettering, making her eyes water.

"Hi, Elisa," stammered a youthful voice, making her look up and not be too surprised to find Randy standing over her with his signature goofy smile.

"Hello, Randy," Elisa said with a tolerant smile.

"I'm so glad you're back," he said eagerly and tried to control a hint of jealousy, "I hope you had a good time."

"Yes, I did, rookie," she said a bit wistfully, "I'd be happy to tell you about it."

"Maybe later," he stammered quickly. He then handed her a colorful wrapped box.

"I never got a chance to give this to you." He gave an eager smile as Elisa awkwardly unwrapped her gift; inside was what had to be the ugliest necklace she had ever seen, an imitation knockoff meant to be in the style of a Native American tribe.

"Uh. . .thanks. What is it?"

"Something I thought you'd appreciate, I heard your dad's an Indian or something from Texas, Cherokee, right?"

Elisa almost lost control of herself over this insult as she said with a hard edge to her voice, "No, Randy. My Dad was from Arizona and his father was a member of the Hopi. You're getting it all mixed up."

"S-sorry, Elisa," he said awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his neck, "I hope you still like it, I picked it out myself."

Elisa could only stare for a moment.

"I bet your husband never gives you stuff like this, my grandmamma always said that's how you know how much a man really loves you."

Elisa glared daggers at him, but Randy just smiled smugly to himself, not realizing the extent of his insults.

"Goliath loves me very much," Elisa nearly snapped, "He shows it in other ways without elaborate gifts. He and I are one."

Randy's eyes widened, jealousy and low self-esteem momentarily surged through him.

"Whoa! I heard the guy is super tall but that's what you call him?! Oh my God, no wonder you married him, the guy must be bitchin' in the sack."

Elisa's eyes widened at Randy's remark, her face flushed hot pink and a slight chill ran down her spine. She could not believe Randy's interpretation of what she meant, but she mostly mentally kicked herself for mentioning her lifemate's real name, after they had tried to be so careful.

For an unknown reason, Elisa suddenly felt a streak of pride in her lover and his great manhood, and how cute it seemed to make her lovesick admirer jealous and self-conscience in comparison. A small smile of amusement curled at the corner of her lips as Randy was about to rant a bit more when someone called,

"Hey, lover boy, the serg is lookin' for ya."

It was the amazingly willowy Officer Quinn, walking with over perkiness to them with a smile and a cup of coffee in her hand. Randy immediately became timid and compliant when he saw the policewoman, rushing off to where he was needed.

"They're so cute when they get scared like that," she giggled with a squeak.

Elisa gave a nod and a smile to her 'rescuer,' her head now clear enough for her to have a better look at the new policewoman. She was not only willowy in build with a near perfect figure, she also had light sun kissed blond hair she wore in a tight French braid, pale corn flower blue eyes, and flawless peach colored skin upon an oval shaped face and bubble gum pink lips curved into a smile revealing perfect pearly white teeth, despite the coffee they always remained bright and shiny. Quinn's classic girlish looks made Elisa think that she belonged more on the catwalk or in a Playboy magazine rather than a police station, and her uniform was more of a fashion statement than a real sign of authority.

"Thanks for your help earlier."

"No prob, girlfriend."

"We haven't been formally introduced."

"Oh, right, sorry, Detective. I'm Officer Lutessa Quinn, but everybody calls me Tess. I transferred here from LA a few weeks ago. We've mostly passed each other in the squad room but I've seen ya around, heard about your bad ass rep."

"That might explain a few things," Elisa said, "And I don't know about 'bad ass,' I'm just dedicated like everyone else."

"Maybe, girlfriend, truth is I know a role model when I see one. Maybe you could teach me a few things."

Elisa gave a smile, Quinn then noticed the unwrapped necklace.

"Eew, then again with your taste in jewelry. . ."

Elisa scowled at the gift as she quickly hid it away in one of her desk drawers, Tess giggled at it. Elisa again rubbed her head as another small headache began to rise.

"You okay? You don't look so hot."

"Probably jetlag, I just got back from my honeymoon this morning."

"Lucky. Where'd you go?"

"Bahamas."

"Ooo. Whoa, I hope you didn't, like, get one o' those, like, totally gross out weirdamundo tropical diseases, that'd be like a total bummer."

Elisa gave a small moan as she said, "I'm sure I didn't."

Unfortunately, just the thought of it made her sick to her stomach again.

"Well, on the way here I gotcha some aspirin, nausea pills, and any other good vibe chill pills ya might need, plus a few extras just in case."

Elisa was about to thank her when her stomach churned again and she made a mad dash for the nearest restroom, Tess watching her a bit wide eyed.

Across the squad room, Matt had seen the whole interaction from his desk, quietly laughing to himself. He returned to work on his current investigation when his desk phone rang.

"Bluestone."

"Good evening, Detective," said a female voice, "I need to speak with you on a very important matter."

"Sara?" Matt said confused, "Sure, honey, but you don't have to be so formal about it."

The female caller gave an amused laugh.

"As sweet as that is, Detective, I'm not this 'Sara.' However, you and I do have a mutual relationship of *great* importance, of which your old partner knows of as well."

A chill went down Matt's spine, his face became expressionless yet his blue eyes gained a fearful yet hard edge to them. With extreme reluctance he became dead serious.

"What can I do for you?" he asked in a toneless voice.

"I need to warn you, anonymously of course, of a potential conflict due to take place tonight. The body found earlier tonight was not just retribution by the Yakuza leaders, but also a warning to all those who work for the Dracon Syndicate. Now listen carefully, I won't repeat myself."

Matt quickly wrote down the 'tip' from the mysterious caller and his 'instructions.' They sounded simple enough, but considering his 'source'. . .

"Be sure to inform your colleagues. *All* of them."

"I understand," Matt said with the same toneless voice.

"Very good. Have a good evening, Detective." She hung up.

Matt stared hard at his phone before lightly slamming it down into its cradle. He stared at the instructions with distain before putting them into his coat pocket.

He rushed to his partner as she emerged from the women's restroom, her eyes slightly bloodshot and her face clammy from a small sweat.

Seeing her in such a state, Matt felt he would rather face a hoard of red caps from the Unseelie Court instead of facing his cranky partner's strange mood swings or a wrathful Goliath for letting his delicate lifemate walk into danger unprotected. He was not sure which was worse.

"I hate to do this to you, Elisa," Matt said with reserve, Elisa giving him a dirty look.

She groaned as Matt told her of the anonymous tip he had just received.

"Call the guys," he urged, "I'm going to talk to the captain and my *great leader.*"

Elisa grudgingly gave a nod to her long time partner and whipped out her cell phone as Matt rushed off to Captain Chavez's office.

****Nightstone, Unlimited.

After hanging up the phone to make her anonymous call to Bluestone, she emerged from her hidden area to witness a somewhat peculiar display. A tall dark figure leaned on a cane as he spoke with a serious business tone to three more figures as a general giving explicit orders to his troops, a large high tech display screen portrayed different scenes behind him as he lectured the three figures.

It was the more peculiar by the simple fact that the figures were all gargoyles.

Thailog spoke with great confidant authority as he showed his 'associates' the locations they will be going to and the items to be retrieved, each of the others watching with varying degrees of interest.

Thailog then pressed a remote and the display screen went dark as he said, "You each have your instructions, I've given you specifications and weak points of the locations you each will be visiting. Along with the special devices I've given you, only your own unique skills are all that can stand against their defenses, not much of which should be a challenge, considering the hilarious level of their stupidity."

Thailog laughed, which was only shared by two of his three associates, a cold metal grey one and a dark haired webbed winged yellow one, a horned, blond haired red one remained seriously stoic.

"Any questions, my friends?" he asked with a smirk.

"Exactly how does this farce help me in locating Icarus?" Typhon spoke up in irritation.

Thailog gave a sinister smile as he said, "After I acquire the necessary information, it will help me to narrow down the possibilities of where he might be in New York. Among other things."

Typhon's eyes just narrowed.

"You now have your instructions," Thailog said authoritarianly as he stood fully forward of the three gargoyles, "I expect you all to return before sunrise."

The three gargoyles soon left to fulfill their tasks.

Thailog steadily made his way to his large executive desk, and to his large padded chair, groaning in reveling pleasure as he reveled in its customized comfort. She came close to him, softy brushed his face with a feather light touch before sitting near him on his desk and crossing her legs seductively.

"It's done," she simply said.

Thailog smiled in arrogance, touched his fingertips together as he said, "And now we wait."


	2. Chapter 2

****Castle Wyvern

"Yeah!" shouted Lex, whooping in triumph as he watched his adversary's battleship explode to space dust and he was then declared the winner.

A game chat room box then popped up on his computer screen with the words;

_That's so unfair! You totally cheated! That's so bogus!_

LexT_I did not! *Smiles wily* So don't tempt me._

Sting Ray_I challenge you to a rematch! Right Now!_

LexT_You're on! And don't be such a sore loser!_

Sting Ray_I am so gonna kick your tail!_

LexT_What makes you think I even have a tail!_

Sting Ray_*Rolls eyes* Oh, ha-ha! Real funny, Dweeb. Now let's get on with the rematch so I can kick your ass from Aarlakk to the next quasar galaxy!_

The whole time Lex was bantering with his online opponent, the wing's private phone rang twice before Othello finally answered it, grumbling in annoyance to himself that Hudson would not answer it but remained in his custom made ez chair and staring at that magical talking picture box he was so fond of.

The receiver barely touched his face as he rumbled, "Hello? Ah, sister." He happily recognized Elisa's voice.

"Good to hear you, too, Othello," Elisa said, "But no time for chit chat, something's going down tonight. Gather the clan and tell them this right away. . ."

Othello listened carefully as Elisa told of the tip Matt received earlier.

"Lexington, Elder," he rumbled as he hung up the phone, "We must gather the others, we may have a mission tonight."

Lex gave a groan of disappointment as he typed to his online friend;

LexT_Sorry, Ray, I'll have to take a rain check on that rematch. *Crosses arms and groans* Family emergency._

Sting Ray_*Groans* Be serious, I hope you're not bailing on me. If you're serious it's ok, I understand, I've have my share of fam. emergs. Take care, I'm holding you to that rematch._

LexT_You got it. Later. *Gone*_

Sting Ray_Later.*Gone*_

The clan had soon gathered in their private meeting area, several members having cut their patrol shifts short, arriving as Othello began to tell of Elisa's call.

"I have been told of a plausible incursion," Othello began as the clan gathered into a tight circle, "between the two bandit broods called the Dracons and Yakuza. They mean to invade areas in the city that they consider 'territory' to the other's side."

Othello gave details as he understood them from their beloved and respected human sister, the entire clan then looking to their great stoic leader.

"This may be so large a task, it will require the entire clan," Goliath said with deep seriousness, his deep gaze clear to the two juvenile members of the clan, who merely swelled with pride. His gaze then went to their parents, nods of understanding from each of them.

"However, one of us must remain behind to guard the castle."

"I'll watch the castle," Lex volunteered with a bit of over enthusiasm.

"Thank you, Lexington," Goliath rumbled appreciatively, "But we may need your swiftness for this night's task."

Although Lex feigned disappointment, he knew Goliath to be right.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Graeme spoke up, "The castle has its own security system that the castle doesn't need guarding."

"Graeme-kun," Sata, his mother, gently warned, "Protective technology can't only be what is relied upon to guard our home, for a living warrior must always be ready to defend the clan's home."

Graeme gave a frown, knowing that his mother was right as usual, and his twin sister smirking.

So it was decided that the youngest members of the clan will stay behind, along with Bronx and Nudnik, while the rest of the clan divided into groups of three for the duration of the night's mission.

The clan soon dispersed, the children as usual began to bicker in English and Japanese. They had proven themselves to be capable warriors in the past, but considering where some of the clan were to be tonight there were some things the children should not yet need to be exposed to.

Goliath and Othello remained behind momentarily as the brawny leader spoke with his equally brawny rookery brother;

"Brother, why is Elisa tending to her duties tonight? When last I spoke with her she assured me she will be recuperating from our honeymoon."

"I don't know, Goliath, but I'm sure she would not be assisting her police brothers and sisters were the situation of some paramount importance."

Worry lines creased Goliath's face, for their activity during the honeymoon had taken a bit of a toll on Elisa. For the last few days of their time together, Elisa began to become easily exhausted and moody to the point of aggravation. Even long before they had finally admitted their feelings for each other and finally began courting, Goliath had always worried for Elisa's safety and wellbeing because of her human fragility. But despite this his heart knew this to be folly, for he knew she was strong in spirit and more than capable of holding her own against a formidable enemy.

Yet as a loving lifemate, he always worried for his beloved.

"I understand how you feel, Brother," Othello quietly said, disrupting Goliath's thoughts, "Were it my beloved lifemate. . ."

Goliath simply placed a large hand on Othello's broad shoulder, an understanding passing between the brothers.

They then departed together to join the rest of the clan.

****An undisclosed location

"You have done well," Shinji Kimura quietly praised, "As promised, your payment for the job requested to be done."

An expensive leather suitcase, opened to reveal a hefty sum of American dollars, was slid across the Japanese mob boss's desk to a feminine figure silhouetted in the shadows, only a strand of bright red hair and a slight protrusion of a buxom chest shown threw.

"I had my doubts about you," Shinji said, "But you have proven yourself. It is a rare privilege to know that I am pleased to be proven wrong."

"When those of the great Kimura-san request the best, you only get the best," the woman said with quiet pride, she then gave a formal bow as she said, "It has been a true honor to serve you, Kimura-sama. If you have need of my services again, I will not hesitate to immediately come."

Shinji simply gave a silent nod as the woman closed the brief case.

"There is."

The woman froze in place.

"I have a client that has requested service of you impressive skills, and he promises to pay well."

A grim faced associate then past the woman a business card, she regarded it for a moment before silently nodding and walking with a quiet brisk grace out of Kimura's office with the briefcase in hand.

"Bring him," Kimura growled dangerously quiet a moment after his temporary employee had gone.

Suited expressionless faced men then escorted town grim faced young men into the Oyobun's lavishly Japanese decorated office. The two young men held themselves with a stiff discipline, their eyes staring down at the floor. This greatly pleased Kimura, for fear has always been a great disciplinarian.

"You greatly disappoint me, Takeo," Kimura said with a dangerous quietness, the silence of the office having become so thick it may have been a booming shout.

Takeo Kimura, aka Tommy, and his accomplice Ryu, just stood in utter silence before the Oyobun, the tension thick with fear.

"You understand why you have been brought before me," Kimura said in Japanese with the same quiet tone.

"Hai, Oyobun-sama," Tommy said quietly without looking up.

"You also understood why I have allowed you to be incarcerated these last several months."

"Hai, Oyobun-sama."

"Good. You also know the consequences should you pull another foolish stunt as you did last year."

"Honorable Oyobun, I only meant to. . ."

"Silence. No excuses, Takeo. You are fortunate I am a forgiving Oyobun, for you have proven in the past to be among my most promising apprentices. Until you foolishly allowed personal trivialities to cloud your judgment within two years."

Kimura allowed this to sink in for several long silent moments, Tommy continued to stare stiffly at the floor.

"Therefore, I have decided to allow you one final chance, though you may never again be wagashi within the bakuto. All of your past operations have been passed on to your 'brother,' Hiruko."

Another handsome young man stepped from the shadows to stand in full view of Tommy and Ryu. Hiruko was not much older than Tommy, and indeed could have easily been an older blood brother to Tommy as he held himself with similar arrogance, yet it had an air of discipline and dignity about him. Tommy's eyes met Hiruko's, though it had been but a moment an eternity had frozen between them. As apprentices to the Oyobun, young men were to consider each other brothers-in-arms to each other like samurai in ancient times. Both of their faces remained blank masks, but their eyes spoke volumes to each other. Beneath Tommy's blank expression was a deep loathing grudge and great envy, for Hiruko was everything Tommy had strove to be. Hiruko had already began his own ikka, was highly respected by many both within the NYC Yakuza and the city's authorities, and most importantly was married to a beautiful and traditional bound wife now pregnant with their first child, most likely a son. Hiruko could see this within Tommy, for beneath his mask was smug arrogance and great pride in seeing himself as Tommy's better in every way.

For a micro moment, a part of Tommy wanted to leap out and strangle Hiruko until he heard the Oyobun snap, "Takeo."

Immediately his eyes snapped to Kimura.

"Hiruko is to be your leader from now on, until such a time *I* decide when your honor has been restored. To the authorities he is your probation officer, however he reports to me as you will report to him. You have been given your orders for the night, deal well with the gaijin interlopers, the Dracons, and I may show leniency. You know the consequences should you fail again, Takeo."

"I do honorable Oyobun," Tommy said with a slightly shaky voice.

"Good. Now go. Do not fail me again," Kimura's voice became hard as he emphasized the last five words, hard lines creasing his face.

Tommy and Ryu gave formal bows before leaving the office.

Hiruko laughed as he wrapped his arms around the other two young men. Tommy's eyes glared acid, his loathing grew by the moment for this man. He was no sure for now whom he hated more, Sharon, the gargoyles, or Hiruko. For now he just knew that one day soon he will have revenge on all of them, for no one made a fool of Tommy Kimura.

****Riker's Island

"I'm extremely disappointed in you, Tony," growled the distinguishably drabbed man who sat in front of Tony Dracon, a protective transparent prison shield between them.

"You say that every time you come here," Tony groaned.

"Because you need to hear it every time. In more than five years you've served time in one way or another, and too often I've looked the other way. Now, because of your incompetence we have to fight another turf war just to keep our hold on this city. I won't hear anymore of your excuses of gargoyles or boogey men. You're a grown man, Anthony, but clearly you want to act like a danm child so you're going to be treated like one. You're just lucky that Tepes fellow didn't press anymore charges against you other than breaking and entering, and property damage. You should know better than to let your impulsive curiosity get the better of you."

"Uncle, I'm telling you, none of it was ever my fault, it was those danm monster bats, and that guy was some kind of freak. . ."

"I don't care," his uncle snapped, "My patience with you has worn thin. I've been far too easy on you simply because you're my nephew and I made a promise to your father." Tony's uncle gave a deep hard sigh.

"Until you learn some discipline, you're cut from the family wealth. I'm personally taking control of all your current operations until I decide to have you released and all your charges dropped. I'll allow your friends like Glasses and Pal Joey to visit and tell you what's been happening. But they're not to discuss business with you, so you won't have any involvement whatsoever."

Tony gave an angered glare at his uncle as he rose from his seat and a broad shouldered suited bodyguard put a long expensive jacket onto his uncle. The distinguished mobster then took a look through the barred door of the visiting room to see another visitor for Tony.

"And one more thing," he said, "Stop with your ridiculous blatant flirting with that police woman, it's a waste of your talents."

"Why did you come here, if not just to ridicule me, Uncle?" Tony complained.

"I told you, because Nicky G is dead, no doubt murdered by those damn Japanese bastards. So far this war has only been school yard fights with pushes and push backs, but it will soon spiral out of control if we don't do something about those sons of bitches. Loosing Nicky will be a blow to us, but we will show those assholes who really owns this town."

Nephew and uncle gave understanding glances to each other as Tony's uncle finally left. As he stepped out of the door, his gaze met the dark fiery eyes of Elisa Maza for but a half second. Tor Elisa it was a frozen moment in time, keeping her wits about her as she took recognition of the dapper looking man as he walked by her. Elisa knew of the man more by reputation and mug shots than by personal acquaintance, but his resemblance to Tony and Dominic Dracon was strong and all too apparent. The slightly receded hair line with grey temples, the trimed mustache, and expensive business suit told her that this had to be only one man. To the city politicians he was wealthy businessman civic philanthropist Brandon Draconis, but most law enforcement officers knew that was only a cover to his real identity as Brando Dracon, the undisputable leader of the Dracon mafia family.

He only took notice of her but no acknowledgement, simply strolling by the police detective as though she were of no importance. Which was fine by Elisa as she quietly spoke into her hidden commlink.

"Are you sure about this, Matt?" she asked her partner, "I have a feeling this might be a dead end."

"Maybe, Elisa," Matt responded, "But you're not on this case officially, even though I know you now want to be. But if Tony knows anything, our best chance is that he'll talk to you. And don't worry, the guys have our backs and Quinn's been undercover at the stakeout sight for the last week. The tip I got might just be the break we need."

"If you say so, Matt. But are you sure about Quinn? There's seems to be something off about her."

"Don't let that fool you, Elisa, she's a lot tougher than she looks."

"Alright, Detective, go on it," the prison guard finally informed her.

"Got to go, Matt," Elisa quickly said as she stepped into the prison visiting room.

It came as no surprise to her when Tony saw her, he once more gave a smirk and turned on the old 'Dracon charm' as he said, "Well, hello again, Sugar, always nice to see you."

"Can it, Tony, I'm not in the mood," Elisa snapped, " Just tell me anything you know about this turf war between you and the Yakuza."

"Sorry, Elisa, you're a little too late. My dear Uncle Brando just cut me off from the family business, I wouldn't have much to tell you."

Elisa scowled, a sudden instinctual need to lash out grew within her, but she kept a disciplined composer.

"That doesn't matter to me, Tony, if you know anything that can help me put an end to this conflict between the syndicates, please tell me."

"And what's in it for me? And don't tell me a lighter sentence time, because you know I won't take it."

Elisa sighed in annoyance, thought for a moment then said, "Satisfaction."

"Of what?"

"Of knowing you did the right thing helping me save lives, and that I can bring them to justice."

"I'm not sure that's good enough for me."

"It'll have to be. At least you'll have a few less of your enemies to worry about."

Elisa hated to stroke Tony's mobster ego, but for now had to do what she could to ensure his cooperation. Tony seemed to ponder this for a moment as he smirked again and said, "Ok, Sugar, one last time, for old time's sake."

Elisa just frowned at him.

"The last time I heard from any of my boys, Glasses told me that Nicky was working on some kind of non-lethal explosive, which isn't usually his style. A bomb that gave off a low level EMP, whatever that is, that messed up all electronic stuff within a given distance. I'm no scientist, but I do know that it was supposed to be an acquisition from that company that recently lost its CEO, Maddox Tech or something."

A chill went down Elisa's spine as she asked, "Are you sure, Tony? Do you think that's why Nicky G was killed, because of this bomb?"

"Maybe, though I think it's more likely the guy got sloppy and those Japes killed him just to screw with us. What do you know about Nicky's death?"

"Nothing so far, he was being taken to the coroner's office last time I saw the body. They should be doing an autopsy soon, but it looked like he was killed by the death of a thousand cuts, he most likely would've bled to death."

They both remained dead still, not wanting the other to see how disturbed they both had become.

"If there's nothing else you can tell me, Tony," Elisa said as she rose from her seat, "Then this meeting is done."

Tony then smirked again as he mocked, "If you ditch that flying purple freak and want to find yourself a real man, look me up, Sugar."

He winked at her as he clicked his tongue and pointed at her, Elisa only gave Tony a dirty look as she left the prison visiting room.

When she finally was out of sight of the visiting room, Elisa leaned against a wall as she fought another feeling of nausea coming on. She always knew Tony Dracon was a vile human being, but he never affected her this much. She became more determined to leave when a somewhat friendlier face caught her eye.

"Jason, hi," she greeted him with friendly professionalism.

The now wheelchair bound former Hunter looked up surprised to see Elisa as he was escorted back to his cell by a security guard.

"Hello, Elisa," he said with a polite smile, " 'tis good to see you."

Despite the small awkwardness between them, Elisa had kept her promise of checking Jason's progress every now and then.

"You're looking well, Jason, I hear you get stronger every day."

"Aye, though it hasnae been easy. I understand ye just got married. Congratulations."

Although Jason was sincere, Elisa could hear an undertone of grudging jealousy.

"Thanks. So how have you been, Jason?"

"Well enough, I've had at least three offers for an early parole for good behavior, but I've had to turn them down."

"What?! Why?"

"After all that I have done, Elisa, especially to you, I deserve to be here where I can do some good. Besides, someone must be here to watch over poor wee Johny."

"That's all in the past, Jason, things do change. And I'm really sorry about your brother, but there's no guarantee that he'll wake from his coma, if at all. And I suppose I can understand since your sister disappeared."

"I havenae heard from Robyn for years now, since someone bailed her out from the last time she escaped, and I nae know where she is. I'm now the only family John has."

"I understand, Jason," Elisa said with sympathy, "But I think you can do more good on the outside, I know you have a lot to offer and I can help you find new purpose."

Jason gave an appreciative smile.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Crawford," the security guard spoke up, "But we need to get going."

"Crawford?" Elisa inquired with a raise eyebrow.

"Aye, Elisa, I legally changed me name a few months ago. There shall be no more Canmores through me now, and at least for me the Hunt is truly over. Before me father died, he used to always tell me and my siblings that a 'Canmore can no more stop hunting gargoyles than breathing th' air. But now that I have given up pursuing such a futile pointless family tradition, I can honestly say that I have ne'er breathed easier."

Elisa gave her former partner a wide toothy smile, a small wave of dizziness suddenly over took her, making her lean against the wall as she rubbed her tightly shut eyes.

"Are ye alright, Elisa?" Jason asked with genuine concern.

"Yeah, I just haven't been feeling well for a few days. I'm sure it's nothing. I'll catch you later, Jason. And next time I strongly recommend you accept an early parole, I know you can do some real good out there. I'll even put in a personal recommendation."

"Thank ye, lass, 'tis greatly appreciated. G'night, Elisa."

"Good night, Jason."

As Jason watched Elisa leave, the guard wheeled him to his cell, a thought crossed Jason's mind about her condition; Could she really be. . .? He then shook the thought away knowing that it was impossible and he was being ridiculous.


	3. Chapter 3

Among the monuments to progress that stand as lasting tributes to mankind's prosperity in its eternal quest to better itself, there is also the despair and downtrodden for those that cannot share in its glory. Little change had come to the crime infested neighborhood since the wild and profitable days of Prohibition.

Once it had been a happy neighborhood with immigrant families searching for a better life, happiness and hope had been shared by all. Now the grotto had been rotted from the inside, dark graying brownstones and homes steadily decaying from grime and decades of neglect and abuse as though to incarnate the darkest corners of the human soul.

The only signs of any existence were a few scattered people who paid no heed to each other; teenage drug addicts sat listlessly on nearby steps as they became lost or withdrawn in their own psychedelic high induced worlds, a lonesome hobo slept in his make shift cardboard home from hours of drinking whisky, and a streetwalker made her way down the street in what was supposed to be a come hither sort of way but was instead forced by her spindly legs as they struggled to hold up her emaciated and scantily clad body.

Few things here were alive, but there was no life, only depression and decay of the soul wrapped in a blanket of miserable darkness where no light shined.

Yet darkness is where secrets are best kept hidden.

Down the dark alley at the side of a building, a flight of stairs lead down to an ordinary grey metal door at basement level. At first glance it is like any door in the side of a rundown building, but for those in the know it lead to a place where inhibitions vanished and the darkening of the soul became ever deeper.

Hiruko, Tommy, and their Yakuza associates made their way into the door, which led into a lobby painted and lit in shades of bright pinks and purples. Two overly muscled bouncers in black T-shirts with 'Security' written in bold white across their burly chests stood guarding another door. Over this one, neon pink lights danced in the shape of a curvaceous woman shaking her hips and puckering her lips for a kiss over a neon purple sign saying 'Welcome to Lips and Hips Club.' Hiruko knocked at the door, an eye hole slid open to reveal glaring beady eyes as a deep husky voice grumbled, "Password."

"Don sent me," Hiruko said with smug confidence, earning him a glare from Tommy.

The door then opened to allow them entry as loud music blared into their ears and flashing lights danced about them. They stepped down five more steps into a nearly packed dance room and bar that seemed to just span endlessly before them. Mostly male patrons whooped and hollered in their drunkenness as they sank ever deeper into a stupor of their own little parties as beautiful and scantily clad women danced sensuously in cages to the rhythm of the pounding music while waitresses dressed in revealing uniforms with the club's logo upon their buxom chests served refreshments to the club patrons. A moderate sized stage opened before the Yakuza associates, with a tall poll set in the center going all the way up to the ceiling, maroon curtains with bejeweled star patterns hiding what may be back stage.

The group finally made their way to an open and private booth in perfect view of the stage, Hiruko finally noticing Tommy's sulking.

"C'mon, little brother," Hiruko jeered as he slapped Tommy's shoulder, "Enjoy yourself while you can. I thought this would be your kind of place. It's just too bad this place won't be around much longer."

Tommy just glared at his 'superior' in loathing, unwilling to give him any satisfaction. For now he just had to be patient.

None of them noticed a small group of men nearby who had been watching the Yakuza man closely since they had entered the club.

"The fish has taken the bait," whispered an auburn haired man in a pressed suit, whispering into a hidden communicator. He then looked at his dusky skinned companion with a mustache, who gave a firm nod.

"You're under arrest," a female voice proclaimed as a police baton suddenly hit across Tommy's chest. He froze for but a moment as he abruptly looked up to see a beautiful blond haired, blue eyed, buxom woman in a revealing mock up of a police uniform. The shorts came to just below her broad hips and were cut just short of her forbidden area, the shorted blue police shirt barely concealed her buxom chest as Tommy stared at it, and the prop badge had the club logo while a nametag proclaimed her as 'Officer Sexy Thing.'

"You have the right to remain silent," she said in a seductive tone, "while I ravish you."

Tommy's tension quickly evaporated to be replaced by his growing arousal, his face flushed while his pants quickly became several sized too tight. Hiruko and Tommy's friends began wailing cat calls as she began a seductive dance of swaying her hips and sensuously touching each of them closely.

"Anything you say," she continued seductively with her mock up of the Miranda rights, "can and will be used against you in a court of lustful law."

She gave them all a coy smile as she drifted her face just centimeters from them as though to catch a kiss from one of them.

An alarm like a police siren suddenly warbled loudly throughout the club as a recorded voice blared, "And now, get ready for the strip search and police sensualityyy!"

'Officer Sexy Thing' ran up on stage to begin her performance to an excitedly cheering male crowd. In her routine, she striped her 'uniform' to reveal a two piece sparkling blue thong string bikini, driving the drunken men all the more crazy with their caterwauling.

"They have weapons," Quinn said through clenched teeth as she nimbly leaned back from the poll by her muscular legs.

"What kind?" inquired Bluestone to his hidden ear piece commlink.

"Illegal street rifles, most likely. I thought I also felt a small detonator remote. I think one of them has a bomb."

Quinn made a spin on the poll with a wide split of her legs, making the crown go wild with cheers and whistles.

"Alright, just keep it up. We'll jump them when they make any suspicious moves."

So it was agreed to keep waiting, for it was all they could do until the Yakuza group make a violent move.

Quinn proved to be quite athletic on the poll, which earned her an impressive amount of cash from the club attendants, even Bluestone had to make an effort to control his growing libido by reminding himself that he already had a girlfriend.

A great girl.

However, like the other undercover cops at the club, Matt was sickened by the place. Not only was it an illegal underground strip club where the crookedest and most corrupt of the city's crime lords, politicians, businessmen, and civil servants came, but it was also believed to be the headquarters and forefront of an operation that was their real target long before Matt had gotten the tip off.

Upon the roof of another building next door, three figures watched quietly from the shadows as though nothing more than carved stone statues.

"I can't believe humans do this sort of thing," Angela quietly said with disguise, "It's sickening."

It sometimes bothered Brooklyn how much like her mother Angela could sound at times, but she at least found more constructive outlets for such feelings.

"I'm with you there, Angela, and I'm sure there are plenty of humans that feel the same way."

She gave her older rookery brother an appreciative smile.

"What disturbs me," Sata began, "is the violent way they choose to resolve their quarrels. It's the way of fools to not consider more peaceful means, which has happened on occasion even in my old homeland."

"The more things change, the more they stay the same. And *we* should know, babe," Brooklyn half quipped.

Both females just rolled their eyes at him as he smiled ridiculously with his prominent beak. And understanding then past between them to cease their talking so as to remain vigilant for the moment they were needed for assistance as police 'backup.'

*KLONK*

"Ow!" cried a broad shouldered black clad man as he then began to mumble inappropriate obscenities.

"Quiet!"whisper shouted another in irritation, calming his companion with little success.

The clad group struggled through the darkened oversized underground garage, giant silhouetted box shapes dwarfed their presence as though they were lab rats struggling their way through a giant maze. It was not long before the seven masked men finally reached their target, the leader removing a small flashlight to check the license plate of the truck.

"Are you sure this is the right one?" asked one of his companions.

Although his face was covered with a black ski mask as the rest of his group, the leader dangerously narrowed his dark eyes at the other man.

"Of course I'm sure, you idiot. This is the exact truck the boss says our client is paying handsomely for. Now c'mon youse jokers, stop sittin' on yer lazy asses."

The men got into position around the truck, one who was an expert in lock picking and safe cracking soon had the driver's side door unlocked to allow their leader inside.

"How long, Mugsy?" the leader asked.

The man who sat next to him inside the truck looked at his digital watch beneath his glove, a countdown in progress.

"Almost ten minutes, Frankie, before we gotta vamoose, then another five before it goes off and we've gotten our head start."

The word got past out to the rest of the group, all fully preparing to make a quick and clean getaway.

"It's too bad we can't get away with all these trucks," commented one named Sydney, "Who knows what these losers stashed here, stuff worth billions I bet."

"Or it could all be worthless junk," complained another called Rupert.

"Pipe down, youse guys," snared Brutus, the burliest and tallest of the group, "I don't care what we've stealin' as long as we get paid and we make these guys just suck it. Nobody messes with the Dracons, this is *our* town."

Excitable agreement was asserted before Frankie again told them to be quiet or he would cut out their tongues and they won't get paid.

They all then became as silent as a graveyard as they awaited for the moment of their getaway.


	4. Chapter 4

"Hey, sweet cheeks," Hiruko called out to a passing waitress, "Do me a favor and bring your boss."

He held up a crisp fifty dollar bill to the scantily dressed waitress, which she then placed flirtatiously into her cleavage. With a sway of her hips she shimmied away to a hidden doorway.

Tommy glared dangerously at Hiruko, but he only gave Tommy a smug smile as he said, "Watch how it's really done, little brother."

Less than a minute later the same waitress returned to their table, her sauntered walk somewhat hurried and her toothy smile now forced.

"Excuse me, sir," she stammered with forced politeness, Hiruko noticing through the flashing lights her nametag said *Candy*, "But, uh . . . my boss said that . . . uh, if you want to talk to him, you uh . . . can talk to him in uh . . . his office."

Hiruko and company rose from their booth without complaining as the sultry waitress lead them to the far back of the club with a slight nervousness in her step. She led them through a doorway to a far side of the stage, which leads into a distinguished hallway one would usually find in a high class office building. The pounding music of the club became silent the moment the door closed tightly behind them, Candy then leading them down an L shaped hall that ended at another door, this one made of a dark and heavy oak with a plaque reading 'Private.'

Candy gave a hard nervous knock at the door, which then opened to reveal a spartanly furnished office the size of a family home living room, the door held by another bullnecked bouncer dressed in a three piece business suit. Decored in a medium dark wood, the office seemed to give a feeling of being both tasteful and tacky; the large wooden desk, bookshelf, and even the plush executive chair were all finely crafted from a wood that may have been from the tropics. The only colorful décor in the office was a deep red wine Oriental rug covering most of the wooden floor.

A man of above average yet unremarkable features wearing an inexpensive business suit sat in the large leather chair; a smile of friendliness graced his face but did not reach his cold iron grey eyes. He lit a cigarette as he wearily eyed his new 'guests.' He eyed Candy as she stood in the doorway with tense apprehension.

"Candy, get back to work," the man said in a dangerous low tone, the waitress quickly left the office a bit flustered.

"Lucas Luccio's the name; owner and proprietor of this fine establishment, but folks around here call me Cool Hand Luke. So, gentlemen, I understand you wished to see me. If you haven't yet enjoyed yourselves at my exclusive entertainment venue, I'm sure we can find some way to make your experiences more exciting."

"Thank you, friend," Hiruko said as he gave a polite bow before he and Tommy took their seats, "But that won't be necessary, my colleagues and I are here to make a proposition to the Dracon Family and all of its associates on behalf of our organization."

"Now what sort of proposition did you have in mind, young sir?" Cool Hand Luke inquired as he eyed his guests suspiciously, moving the cigarette in his lips from one side of his mouth to the other as he blew out heavy wisps of nicotine smoke.

Hiruko again smiled smugly as she said, "May I first graciously request one of those fine cigarettes, sir, for a good host always offers his best hospitality to his guests."

"Of course, where are my manners," Lucas smirked as he took out a thin silver cigarette box from a desk drawer to offer to Hiruko and his associates.

As Hiruko past one to Tommy, two of Lucas's men held lighters to them as they took their first puffs of the cigarettes, Hiruko proceeded with introductions,

"I'm Hiruko Kimura, my little brother Tommy" Tommy scowled needles at him "And our associates Ryu, Fuyu, Yoshi, and Junzo."

"Yakuza," Lucas said with a light growl, "Somehow I'm not surprised. Whatever your 'proposition' is, kid, it'd better be good."

Hiruko just smiled smugly, unfettered by Lucas's threatening undertone.

"Of course, Mr. Luccio-san," he said as he gave a relaxed long blow of nicotine smoke, "It is something that I'm sure we will all greatly benefit from. As I'm sure you're well aware of, aggression between our outfits has broken out and I'm sure we all want to put a quick end to it. Besides the Yakuza and the New York mafisia, I personally have heard disturbing rumors of several other outfits becoming involved, such as Russians, Irish, even Triads, and just to make a long story short, not only will more senseless violence erupt on the streets but the circumstances of which I'm sure we can agree about will be very bad for business."

"Mmm," Lucas grunted, "and I suppose you and your buddies here have an idea of how to do this."

Hiruko leaned forward with his ever smug smile and twinkle in his eye as he said, "As clever as I personally am, Mr. Luccio-san, my colleagues and I are for the moment merely the messengers and proponent negotiators. I'm sure you know the saying about messengers."

Lucas just stared hard at Hiruko, then said with a slightly annoyed tone, "Yes, but that doesn't mean I like it when the errand boy wastes my time. Now you can get on with it or leave my office and my club right now."

"Very well, Mr. Luccio-san," Hiruko smiled as he reached into his inside coat pocket.

The suited burly bouncers within the office instantly tensed at the moment, prepared to draw weapons should Hiruko mean to harm their boss. Only half a second followed as the Yakuza stooges did the same as they stared off at their opponents with thick pea soup tension in the air.

"Easy, my friends," Hiruko said coolly, "If we were really here to kill Mr. Cool Hand Luke and all of his associates, we would have already."

Lucas held up his palm for his bouncers to put their weapons away, the tension in the room steadily dropping as Hiruko slowly withdrew a white letter envelope from his coat pocket and held it up for all in the office to see before passing it to Lucas.

"This is a personally signed letter from my esteemed kashimoto-oyabun, Shinji Kimura; to your own distinguished ji-san, Mr. Dracon. He and several other Yakuza leaders propose a joint undertaking in business in this city instead of squabbling over profits and territories. In a sense, our organizations will become business partners instead of rivals in certain ventures of our own or your choosing. This could not only improved relations between us, but it could also save lives on both sides, and most importantly greatly increase profit margins for us all. As a show of good faith, Mr. Kimura has extended his hand in friendship with a special gift."

Lucas only momentarily skimmed the letter before shaking the envelope to dump out a tiny object, a jade pin encased in 18-karrot gold carved in the Japanese symbols for strength and harmony. Lucas regarded the pin for a moment as though to find if it was real, an imitation, or some kind of gimmick.

"Nice craftsmanship," he commented but again became serious, "But this all sounds too good to be true, which is very fishy to me."

"It's understandable, Mr. Luccio-san, but I assure you when those of us of the Yakuza give our word we give it under a most serious oath of honor, for we would rather commit seppuku-self suicide that is-than go back on our promises, for it's among the ultimate of great dishonors."

Lucas cocked an eyebrow at Hiruko as he said, "So your saying your word as it is that the Yakuza is all on the up and up is all I need to trust."

Hiruko gave another smug puff of his cigarette as he said, "Of course, my friend, just as now I will give you my word of honor that your business will become more *explosive* in the near future."

Lucas stared at his guests with a suspicious raised eyebrow while Hiruko just looked back at him with overly smug confidence.

Lucas then gave a low laugh as he began to say, "Nice try, kid, you almost had me there. I'll take this to Mr. Dracon, but you take this message back to your boss. Tell him if the Yakuza wants Dracon's partnership or cooperation they'll have to do better than this, because the Dracons have run this town since the '20s and they'll stay at the top. If you want something from him, it'll be on his terms. My boys will escort you out now. Good night, gentlemen."

Three of Lucas's lackeys took up positions in front and to the sides of the Yakuza men, a fourth taking up the rear as though a more burly form of the Secret Service escorting a foreign diplomatic party.

"I knew this was a waste of time." Tommy complained in Japanese, "If I was supposed to learn something from all of this, I didn't. What was the point of coming to this damn place anyway?"

"Relax, little brother" Hiruko smiled wryly at Tommy, "We've only completed part of our task, and the fun isn't over yet."

Not for the first time that night, Tommy desperately wanted to strangle Hiruko for all of that demeaning 'little brother' crap. But now was not the time.

The Yakuza gang were escorted by Lucas's thugs out into the club again, where the rhythm of pounding music, sensuous dancing, and overly intoxicated drunkenness had not slowed one iota. Smirking to himself, Hiruko carefully picked his moment as he and the others walked to the middle of the club. In an act to feign intoxication, he hit his foot against a step as he launched himself into an unsuspecting passing waitress carrying a tray of dirtily named beverages. She gave a startled yelp as she got the wind knocked out of her and the tray went flying from her hand, the liquid flew onto a group of overly partied patrons, the glasses shattered across the hard floor and table while Hiruko and the waitress tumbled into the front bouncer and into a bigger human pile of more party patrons; all within a few seconds.

"Hey, you damn son of a bitch!" shouted one of the beverage stained men, "You ruined my suit!"

Although he was not a very big or well built man, his bloodshot red eyes had murder written in them as he stocked towards Tommy. Ryu pulled his gun on the would-be victim, but the overly intoxicated man only swung a drunk punch at him with no concern about a weapon being held to his face. Simultaneously, the lead bouncer and Hiruko struggled out of the human made pile amid shouted protests and complaints. When the waitress finally stood up from the pile to turn to Hiruko and slap him hard across the face with an angered expression as she called him a 'perverted jackass' and storm away in disgust while the bouncer snared at him to swing his own punch instead of drawing his weapon. Hiruko just smirked as he sidestepped the bouncer, while Ryu sidestepped from the drunk patron and hit the patron on the back of the neck with the butt of his gun.

The patron stumbled into the bouncer and got hit in the jaw by the bouncer's rock hard fist. The burly bouncer picked the patron up by his shirt scruff and growled at him, then tossed him back to pile on his drunken companions as though the bouncer decided to take out his frustration on the patron instead.

The other human pile victims began shouting angered obscenities and insults as the thrown patron's party did the same to then suddenly attack the Yakuza men. The other angered party joined in and then chaos erupted within the club.

The Hips and Lips Night Club in a microsecond had gone from an exclusive underground strip club to an inner-city biker bar with a club wide brawl; where a punch was intended as self-defense instead became a means of inflicting violence upon another, further leading into a mob mentality of getting caught up in the thrill of angered fist fights. Isolated fights merged with others to soon encompass others around them where soon it was unsure where one fight began and another ended, all overwhelmed by the disturbing sounds of violence in the forms of breaking bones, hard punched hits, and screams of anger or fear or pain.

In one brawl between two lesser city crime lords, one punched the other hard enough to break a nose and dislocate a jaw, and then began to beat on the next man nearest to him.

In another, a crooked city politician struggled with an equally crooked con artist for a possession of a weapon as it fired off several shots in random directions.

Throughout the club, cage dancers cringed in fear of their own cages while waitresses or strippers ran for cover while they screamed in fear of their safety, or bolder women actually joined in the fighting.

Moments after the violent ruckus had broken out, undercover police officers tried to restrain as many drunk people as possible while attempting to restore some sense of order. But being outnumbered in a four to one ratio, restoring any sign of order proved futile.

While Bluestone and Morgan fought their way through the belaboring crowd, trying to back each other up or defend themselves from personal injury, three inhuman shadows entered the club, silently unnoticed.

At the source of the club brawl, Hiruko's Yakuza gang fought off their attackers with a bit more discipline yet loose teamwork; a karate chop here, a high kick there, but Tommy just set to pummeling anyone near enough to him out of frustration and anger, imagining every face to be Hiruko's.

In a far corner of the club, another drunk suited man got set to begin clobbering a fearful sobbing waitress, never even noticing a shadowy figure with glowing eyes behind him approach closely to give a strong chop at his neck and knock him unconscious. The stunned waitress gave a wide mouthed stare at her rescuer, but Sata only gave a warm smile as she helped the waitress to her feet and said, "That was no way to treat a lady."

A dancer yelped and shouted protests of fear as she hung onto the bars of her cage as it got rattled and banged around by a sea of endlessly brawling drunkards. Yet a peculiar sign of hope caught her sight as a pale purple woman with wings lifted an overly muscled bouncer without even trying and tossed him away and he bowled over more fighters to knock them onto their backsides. The purple winged woman then easily bent the cage bars with incredible strength, yet her voice was gently reassuring as she reached inside for the dancer with an equally gentle grasp. Angela then quickly carried the spooked and hardly dressed cage dancer to a safe corner backstage, not going unnoticed by a blond 'stripper' in a sparkling blue string bikini.

It had not been easy for Brooklyn to make his way to the club's studio in the far back, having struggled through tightly packed hoards of mindless human fighters without killing anyone. However, being a more seasoned warrior, the only major damage he had done was knock overly intoxicated humans unconscious and even saving a few less drunk patrons who were less willing to fight but instead curled up into fetal positions in instinctual self preservation. Only one or two gave real gratitude before getting to a safer distance while others typically ran at the sight of him.

When he finally reached the entrance to the studio, the only obstacle in his way was the mob maddened DJ who had been protecting the entrance to his domain by shouting threats and dangerously holding a gun to anyone who came too close. Brooklyn saw at least three men lying in smeared pools of blood near the DJ's feet, evidence that his threats are to be taken seriously.

As Brooklyn got nearer to the crazed DJ, he held his gun at the beaked gargoyle between the eyes, Brooklyn now close enough to see him practically foaming at the mouth and his wide eyes the size of saucers and bloodshot, the pupils hugely dilated to the point they looked completely black and no telling what color his irises truly were.

"Get away, freak!" he snarled, his grip slightly shaking with the gun.

Although Brooklyn had stared down the barrels of many guns before, the true threat of them to him had steadily faded over time, so with focused speed the clan second grabbed the DJ's vulnerable wrist and gave a powerful hard squeezed twist. The DJ's gun fell from his loosened grip at the snapping sound of breaking bones, Brooklyn snagging the gun from the air with his tail as the DJ screamed in surprised pain and fell to his knees grasping his broken wrist.

Brooklyn quickly leaped into the studio box, shutting the door behind him as he suddenly wished that Lex was with him. Brooklyn had a clear idea of why he was in here, but now being surrounded by all the buttons, knobs, and switches that controlled the ambiance of the club, he just felt hesitant and a bit confused. Experiences with future technology never prepared him for this. Seeing his real target, he considered carefully which switch controlled the studio microphone speakers.

He pushed one, but it only stopped the pounding music; another simply revealed a lowered disco ball, tiny specks of light dazzled the club as it rotated slowly from its axis; another made a recorded voice announce the start of another strip dance with a country western theme.

Brooklyn slapped his forehead, but he forced himself to focus as he looked for the microphone's correct switch.

Hiruko punched out another man that had tried to attack him, and then simply set to straightening his white silk suit with confidence as fights raged around him. He then slowly turned at the nearby sound of a cocked gun.

"Don't' move," the auburn haired man holding the gun said with dead seriousness.

"Detective," Hiruko just casually greeted.

An alarm suddenly klaxoned again throughout the club, some of the more reasoning people thinking it was a fire alarm for a moment, and a voice boomed over the intercom with the mock police alarm, "Freeze! This is the police!"

The chaos within the club, all of the fighting, shouts, screams, and violence suddenly died down as two thirds of the attendees suddenly found themselves surrounded by others holding guns to their heads. The more intoxicated club attendees just laughed as though this had just been a huge prank until the club lights ceased flashing, bathing the entire place in an unusual asymmetrical environment of light and shadows of a deep amber tone. Murmurs of confusion and bitter disappointment reverberated throughout the crowd.

Hiruko just stood with over smug confidence in front of Bluestone, never noticing the lead bouncer coming at him from behind for another brawl when he suddenly fell forward with a loud bodily thump. They turned to notice the blond stripper, 'Officer Sexy Thing' on the thug's back, holding his arm tightly at an angle that threatened to dislocate his shoulder or break his arm.

"You're under arrest," she said with a serious tone as she seemingly produced a pair of hand cuffs magically from thin air. They clipped on tightly to the bouncer's wrists, which proved way too thick for the cuffs.

"She really gets into her part, doesn't she? Even now she makes with the kinky stuff," Hiruko remarked smugly.

Both Bluestone and Quinn just gave Hiruko dangerous dirty looks as Quinn pulled the overly burly bouncer back to his feet.

"Nice work, Quinn," Bluestone said.

"Thanks, Detective. Hey, get moving, slime ball." She began to push the bouncer towards the door, along with many other hand cuffed people and undercover police officers.

Matt continued to hold his gun steadily at the Yakuza men as he took note of who they each were.

"Tommy Kimura," Matt said as he sighted the familiar young man, "Why am I not surprised. You and your friends are all under arrest."

"Wait a minute, Detective," Hiruko spoke, Matt eyeing him suspiciously, "This is all just a huge misunderstanding. Tommy and his friends are with me; I'm his parole officer and just took them out for a little fun. If I hadn't been so clumsy this whole situation could've been avoided."

Matt just stared at him hard, only lowered his gun a bit as he said, "You'll all have to come down to the station for questioning."

"I know you're only doing your job, Detective, but that won't be necessary." Hiruko walked up to Matt casually and placed his hand on Matt's shoulder as if they were old friends. Matt almost shook it off but then noticed a gold ring on Hiruko's middle finger, and the pyramid logo engraved upon it.

Matt looked at Hiruko straight in the eyes, the young man giving him a small knowing smile and a not-so-friendly-but-not-an-enemy twinkle in his eyes.

Matt reluctantly lowered his gun, staring hard at Hiruko.

"I shall be happy to give you a statement at a later time, Detective," Hiruko said as he removed his hand from Matt's shoulder, "But, right now I'm sure you have more important matters to take care of. We'll be leaving now, but I promise that I will make sure that Tommy or his friends won't cause any more trouble in the future. Good night, Detective."

Hiruko gave a formal bow as he bade Tommy and the others to follow him. Matt watched with reserved resentment as the Yakuza men went on their way.

From the shadows of a nearby corner, Cool Hand Luke scoffed at what he had seen his club turned into because of those Yakuza punks.

"Boys trying to play at being men. If that's all those pathetic bastards have up their sleeve we'll win this turf war in no time. Never send a *boy* to do a *man's* job."

He then ordered a few more of his flunkies with him out of the club through a secret passage in his office, after putting the pin away in disgust into a desk drawer. He then made his way to a private black limo, Lucas and his flunkies drove away silently unnoticed into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Outside on the dark decrepit streets police bubbles and headlights flashed and danced like a new extended view of the night club from beat patrol cars and unmarked vehicles, a crowd steadily filling in the street as various people filled the police cars, or ambulances, for booking or medical treatment. There were many angered shouts of protesting from many of the crooked politicians, civil servants, and businessmen that were also suspected crime bosses. Many others were simply wrapped in blankets and having their injuries tended to by paramedics as they gave statements to uniformed officers. Many of these injured and blanketed people were the women who worked at the club as waitresses or strip dancers.

It was the largest gathering of people and liveliest activity the decayed and dead neighborhood had seen in many years.

Matt and Morgan escorted one last frightened waitress with a black eye and multiple bruises forming on her arms, none other than Candy. A female paramedic ran up to them and wrapped a thermo blanket around Candy as she mumbled to herself,

"The green lady was right. No way to treat a lady. They warned me but I wouldn't listen, nowhere else to go. All those girls, my friends, broken or gone. Tess is right, too. They need help. *I* need help. Tell them everything. Tell the police everything."

The paramedic patted her on the back and tried to reassure Candy that everything will be okay now, the undercover Officer Quinn joining her colleagues, now dressed in her real uniform with the shirt unbuttoned revealing the sparkling bikini top.

"Well, Quinn, it sounds like we have at least one person willing to testify," Matt said.

"One of more than a few dozen actually. Maybe I'm just very persuasive, but almost all of the women here are now willing to come forward about the smuggling and prostitution ring. There may even be a better chance now of finding some of those missing girls."

Matt smiled broadly at Quinn as he said, "Excellent job, Tess. This brings us a step closer to ending one of Dracon's sex slave operations in the city. Though we still have a long way to go if we can end this gang war before it escalates."

"There is always hope, Detective. Always." Tess made her way to the dark street, a lightness in her step that showed a rare kind of confidence and wisdom she hardly showed.

Matt felt a bit of doubt about that for a moment but he knew she was right. Quinn may act like an annoying airhead a lot, but she proved to be as dedicated as anyone he knew on the force.

As Matt stepped from the shadows to the bustling activity on the street a white package fell into his arms, he caught it purely on instinct. On top of it was a quick written note that said,

_Found this in the control room. Might be important. DJ was out of his mind. –Brook._

Matt glanced up at the rooftop with a smile, though he couldn't see them but he knew they were there.

Brooklyn and his patrol mates watched all of the goings on from another rooftop across from the club, making sure that their police friends were able to handle the situation despite so many intoxicated humans.

Sata and Angela looked at him with amused smiles.

"Tell us again, My Love, exactly how you were able to do that stunt," the jade green gargess inquired.

Brooklyn just gave a flustered sigh, his cheeks turned a light maroon as he said, "Simple, I just started randomly pushing buttons until I got the right one. Then I just ripped out the fuse box."

Sata and Angela chuckled as Angela said, "I thought you once told us about having to learn how to work on some sort of 'space station' in the future. A microphone shouldn't have been any trouble for you."

Brooklyn just groaned as he stated, "Lex is the techno wiz in the clan, remember? Besides, all those doohickeys were made for human fingers, not gargoyle talons. Now if we can focus here, thank you very much."

Brooklyn just looked back down to the street below with an indignant huff, the females continued to chuckle.

A bit further up the street, Officer Quinn searched for any would-be stragglers who would seek escape from arrest at the first opportunity. Though she appeared relaxed, she was ever vigilant; she knew she was not alone. She knew they were close even before she heard their footsteps.

"Hey there, baby," said a husky voice.

Quinn turned casually to face three familiar street thugs, a dusky skinned man and his two companions, a pasty skinned bald man and a pudgy man carrying a chain.

"I see what you gots under there," the leader smirked, "You hot. How's about we haves some fun?"

His friends laughed maniacally, giving kisses and caterwauling whistles.

Quinn just looked at them with a neutral expression.

"Go home, gentlemen. It's late."

They just laughed at her, then they began to pounce.

In just three moves from Quinn, a jab to the jaw, a solar plexus, and a swing kick they were down, moaning in disorientation.

The dusky skinned leader opened his eyes halfway but all he could see was a bright white light, like something from the stars. A voice echoed from somewhere, maybe do to a ringing in his brain, simply say, "Foolish, boys. Things aren't always as they appear."

For a moment he thought he saw a willowy figure with wings from within the light, but as his vision cleared it turned out to be just a beam for another police officer's flashlight as Morgan and two other officers came running up to them. To the thug's dismay he found himself and his friends with their hands cuffed behind their backs.

He and friends snared as the officers got the thugs to their feet and Morgan rhetorically asked, "How many times must we jail these guys?"

His fellow officers laughed as they hauled the three street thugs away.

****Queens, on the way from Riker's Island

Although she was a born and bred New Yorker, the one thing Elisa detested about the city was the traffic jams. Everything else was mostly tolerable, but like any licensed driver she tried not to get stuck in such slow traffic. Like now, it was rather unusual at this time of night and in this borough, though it was not unheard of.

Maybe there was something to be said about public transportation.

Her headache had gotten a bit worse as the traffic dragged on, thoughts of her visit with Tony weighed heavily on her mind. Where Maddox Technologies was involved in anything, it was sure to be bad news and Thailog, vampires, and crooked policemen were bad enough.

All she wanted right now was to get the paperwork over with, go home and get some badly needed rest.

For a moment she thought she was going to throw up again. Maybe she really should have seen the station doctor.

She immediately shoved that thought from her mind as she grabbed the bag Quinn had bought from the drug store, found the aspirin and swallowed two pills whole as her police scanner buzzed to life.

Reports came in of two simultaneous robberies and a power outage of a three block radius in Little Tokyo. Elisa's cop instincts kicked in as she attached the police light to her car roof. For a moment she felt torn, but never one to doubt her instincts before, she activated her siren as she raced towards Little Tokyo in the thick jamming traffic.

She wondered if this night was ever going to end.

The neighborhood had grown quiet again, desolate, empty, abandoned.

Several hours had passed after the police raid on the Lips and Hips Night Club, but there was no sign of life, not even the most downtrodden hobo or a stray cat.

Not far from the location of the club, a lone figure stood in the deep shadows as he removed a small clicker, like a new car lock remote, from his jacket pocket.

He savored the moment for but one second then pressed a button.

From somewhere in a darkened office, a faint chirping sounded at a steady beat. One chirp, then two, this it sped to a high whining before a great explosion of fire as it consumed the office then the entire club in less than a second.

The abandoned building acted as a chimney as the explosion expanded upwards, blowing out boarded up windows of wood and broken glass. Fire blazed from the windows as an indoor inferno that had yet to satiate its lustful hunger.

Hiruko smiled smugly as he pressed a button on his cell phone and said into it, "It's done."

"Excellent," said a female voice, "Everything is going as planned."

Hiruko got into his black limo, disappearing as a dark shadow into the night.

TO BE CONTINUED…

End of episode 5.


	6. Chapter 6

We Live Again: Episode 6

Expect the Unexpected Pt. 2: Heists

By Inspiration

Disclaimer: The Gargoyles animated series, including the Goliath Chronicles, is the property of the Walt Disney Company and Buena Vista Animation Inc. Original series co-created by Greg Weisman. The characters Darius, Graeme, Ariana, and Nudnik are from TGS and are credited to the TGS staff. Shari is from SLG Comics. All original characters are the property of the author Inspiration. No copyright infringement is intended here and the author makes no profit off of these fan fiction stories, only writes for fun of creativity and entertainment.

Author's Note: For those who have been wondering but may have already guest, yes it is Shari from SLG Comics who has thus far made cameo appearances in the background in my series as a mysterious companion to Thailog. Though my series has no real tie-ins with SLG Comics, but with TGS, she was such an interesting character I felt she needed to be in my series. As I always make clear, my intention is to be as faithful as possible to the original series, its Master Plan by Greg Wiesman, and TGS, but it is all my own interpretation and no copyright infringement is intended as made clear by the disclaimer. Please enjoy Part 2.

Previously on Gargoyles. . .

"You each have your instructions; I've given you specifications and weak points of the locations you each will be visiting. Along with the special devices I've given you, only your own unique skills are all that stand against their defenses. You now have your instructions. I expect you all to return before sunrise." Thailog.

"Exactly how does this farce help me in locating Icarus?" Typhon.

"After I acquire the necessary information it will help me to narrow down the possibilities of where he might be in New York. Among other things." Thailog to Typhon.

"It's done." Thailog's mysterious female assistant.

"And now we wait." Thailog smiled in arrogance as he touched his fingertips together.

"Glasses told me that Nicky was working on some kind of non-lethal explosive. . . a bomb that gave off a low level EMP within a given distance." Tony Dracon.

"This may be so large a task, it will require the entire clan." Goliath.

"I don't see what the big deal is. The castle has its own security system that the castle doesn't need guarding." Graeme.

"Protective technology can't only be relied upon to guard our home, for a living warrior must always be ready to defend the clan's home." Sata.

Scene of Lips and Hips strip club exploding.

"It's done." Hiruko into his cell phone.

"Excellent. Everything is going as planned." Mysterious woman.

(WLA) _Expect the Unexpected Pt. 1: Plots_

The truck's engine roared to life as a beast of ancient times now awakened from its eternal slumber, a creature now ready to unleash its strength upon the world.

At a steady pace the metallic beast made its way through the cavernous underground garage that had served as its lair, passing its still dormant brothers that awaited in silence, the rumbling monster making its journey alone through darkness now penetrated by its large luminous headlights.

After a seemingly long trek through dark tunnels, the metallic beast finally emerged from its underground sanctum to emerge into an open world to begin a hunt in the canyons of the concrete jungle.

Frankie maneuvered the truck with expert ease as he drove through darkened streets and back alleys of Manhattan. In the passenger seat, Mugsy closely watched a countdown from his watch while the rest of the crew rode from strategic points on the outside of the truck; two hung on the outside of the driver rig's doors, two atop the boxcar, watching for any aerial attacks, and one at the back of the boxcar watching for any would-be pursuers.

Though Frankie's driving was not speedy, it was progressive and steady. The thieves soon made it to the rendezvous point for the truck with 30 seconds to spare, according to Mugsy's timer. A black van rode up next to the truck, Frankie's crew all quickly scrambled into it for a smooth getaway, it drove rapidly away when the last henchman was inside but before the side door fully closed.

The van drove half a block away from the truck right before an odd pulse swept through a portion of the city, darkening neighborhoods and back alleys into a deeper silence.

The truck was once more a silent behemoth as it stood alone on the silent abandoned block at the edge of a mysterious blackout. It would not be until several hours later into the dark night that the metallic beast would roar its might again, this time by a different band of thieves.

At least two hours before dawn, the stolen truck and its mysterious cargo were driven undetected onto the city streets as just another jury rigged vehicle making a delivery to Nightstone Unlimited.

High above the iconic skyline of New York City three winged figures soared together then broke formation to head for different parts of the city.

Each had a task to do as part of a bargain in a loose alliance of very unlikely comrades, but for one of them the alliance had been anything but beneficial.

A stoic introspective expression graced Typhon's handsome yet craggy features as he soared to a darkened section of the city that held his destination. He had come to an important decision of what he needed to do once this latest task for Thailog was done, something he feels he should have done weeks ago. This so-called alliance had gotten him nowhere and he had grown tired of wasting his precious time in this repugnant human inhabited city.

Clearly what he sought was not here.

Typhon landed at the entrance to an antiques shop in a small area of the city known as Little Tokyo with a reserved stiffness in his step. He found it abhorrent, though not surprising, how humans chose to segregate themselves for the most ridiculous reasons; because some were wealthier than others; ancestries were different; skin coloring types were superior to others; worship of a specific deity; or sexual orientation.

Their technology may have progressed impressively, but as the ancient legends concurred, humans were a selfish and destructive species by nature. The actions of one were not enough to forgive the destructiveness of her kind.

Typhon easily tore the security gate, which covered the door and windows to the antiques shop, from its hinges. Tossing the twisted chain link metal gate to the sidewalk, Typhon then punched through the glass doorway with his arm ridges to scatter broken glass across the floor which broke into smaller crystalline pieces as they crunched under his heavy toe talons, to bite and become imbedded in his softer flesh, but he paid no heed to its sting.

As the scarlet giant made his way through the shop he only took moments to glimpse and admire the many Japanese antiques gracing the shelves. Although he has never seen the need for worthless material possessions he did appreciate simple artworks. He briefly thought of one of his younger rookery sisters who had a strong interest in learning from the most prominent artisans in New Olympus.

He then refocused to his task at hand, making his way deeper into the back of the shop to find a hidden doorway.

In an inconspicuous corner at the very back of the shop Typhon found a bronze dragon statue bolted to the wall, its serpentine body flowed gracefully downward to a snarling head. Remembering his instructions, Typhon gave the dragon's head a twist to the left which was then followed by a smooth wooden hissing as the wall slid away with near silence to reveal a secret never meant to be seen by eyes other than those it was meant for.


	7. Chapter 7

In another part of Manhattan, over 5th Avenue, another gargoyle made his way to an upscale penthouse perched arrogantly among many others of the high class street high above the rest of the neighborhood to gaze down to the people below as ants.

With a small gesture of his hand and a whispered word pushed with a bit of his will, Darius easily landed on the outside terrace of the penthouse without the intruder alarm signaling his presence. He smirked to himself for his cleverness as well as how adorable it was how humans tried to establish status by living high above their fellow humans as though they could ever reached the skies like his own proud race.

Darius opened the terrace door to make his way through the penthouse which gave an air of both tasteful interior design décor and disgraceful tackiness. He mostly ignored the many expensive trinkets that occupied almost every corner of the penthouse, scoffing to himself how pathetic it was the way humans would try to fill their lives with useless material possessions. He would have ignored everything to remain focused on his task had he not just then unexpectedly sensed a faint whiff of magic in the air nearby.

Casually stepping up to the object radiating the mysterious magical energy Darius smirked to himself again how pathetically foolish the human owner of this habitat must really be to simply having this item without knowing its true value. To have something just simply to have it, place it upon a pedestal of honor, and then allow it to gather dust is just wasteful.

He easily picked the object from its pedestal among a collection of artifacts from various ancient cultures across the globe, aware of its true nature he knew he will have better use for it.

He then made his way to the office room of the penthouse, which would have been indistinguishable from any business office of an upscale CEO in New York City. Although Darius kept a disciplined calm as he stepped up to the desk computer, he feigned a bitter disappointment at the thought of the lack of a challenge his task failed to present. Pushing such a thought aside, the gargoyle sorcerer set to inserting a blank disc into the computer hard drive as he began to search for the required file.

He patiently watched from a safe distance as he waited for his window of opportunity, his sensors carefully scanning to adjust and recalibrate for any electronic interference sent out by the building's security system. His most recent upgrades had impressively downgraded the Eyrie Building's jamming signal upon his functioning systems from a large inconvenience to a mild occasional nuisance.

The clan's wealthy baron ally may think he could keep intruders such as himself out, but the baron is truly a fool if he truly believes his fortress tower to be impenetrable. How so soon he must have forgotten it was he and his elfish servant who had bestowed him with a new superior body and real power.

He had not needed to wait long before his window opened at the precisely calculated time, willing his thrusters to life as he moved forward from his silent hover and activated another upgrade before entering through a nearby window that lead into the heart of the Eyrie Building.

****Castle Wyvern

From within his office, Xanatos took a sip of his expensive imported coffee as he reviewed recent documents of his company's latest ventures and acquisitions, the numbers and reports of some of the documents disturbed him a great deal. The same moment his coffee cup hit his desk as he put it down a faint bloop sounded from his desk computer as though to alert him to a faintly detected object passing near his building. The bloop had been so low Xanatos would not have noticed it at all had he not been expecting to watch for it for the last hour.

Setting aside the peculiar business papers, Xanatos set to deal with this suspicious object that had set off his security alarm.

In the castle gymnasium, Ariana practiced vigorously with her Bo staff while her twin brother Graeme occupied his time with a classic Game Boy. He then gave a glum frown as his game sounded with downing droning music as his cardinal colored sister spun her staff into an attack position.

"I don't see why you gotta do that," Graeme complained, "It isn't like you're gonna fight a bad guy any time soon."

Ariana glared at her jade green brother as she said, "Remember what Mother said, a living warrior must be ready to defend the clan's home and a security system isn't always enough. I thought you learned that by now."

"C'mon, Ari, you know we always get the short end of the stick, the clan always leaves us out of the best stuff. What's the big deal with this hips and lips place anyway? Sounds like a girly make up club to me."

Ariana gave him a dirty look as she said in a reasoning tone, "I don't know, but Mother and Father and Uncle Goliath must've had good reason to leave us behind, I'm sure."

"Whatever," Graeme scoffed, "Face it, sis, we both know nothing exciting ever happens around here when we have to guard this old pile of rocks."

Ariana was about to rebuttal her brother when the overhead gym lights flickered abruptly, making the twin juvenile gargoyles look around themselves rapidly.

Off in a corner of the gym Bronx stirred from a peaceful doze, little Nudnik having been jumping playfully about the elder gargbeast, who then gave a low menacing growl at the flickering lights.

"Then again I've been wrong before," Graeme sheepishly corrected, yet a smirk began to form on his beak.


	8. Chapter 8

The hidden door slid gracefully aside to reveal a hidden room the size of a moderate temple hall room. At the far end of this hidden hall upon a brightly polished white marble pedestal was the target for Typhon's task. The only obstacle between him and the item were motion sensing lasers which crisscrossed the room in random diagonal directions, horizontally across the floor, and in a vertical circle around the pedestal.

Removing a small piece of paper from his belt, Typhon then found the control box for the motion sensors behind an elegant Japanese silk painting. Entering the code written on the paper the motion sensors deactivated with a low hum. Typhon gave a quick gaze around the room, his expression one of suspicious contempt. This task was not only proving to be completely pointless but also too simple. Although he had expected a bit more resistance from the humans he preferred not to waste his energies on such pathetic creatures that he was sure would cheat and deceive in order to win a battle, just like in the ancient legends.

Typhon had gotten half way across the temple like room when a metallic gleaming object imbedded itself into the floor, just missing his toe talons. The object was an equilateral triangular shaped piece of metal, three more long triangles connected around a circle with flawless razor sharp edges, one cutting deeply into the floor right in from of him.

A voice spoke out from the shadows in a strange language, though Typhon did not understand it he figured out its intent.

With stealth and grace, human shapes emerged from the darkest corners of the temple as silent velvet shadows with an ancient skill perfected over the centuries to make shadows their element. More than half a dozen humans clad only in tight formfitting black suits with slits only revealing their eyes quickly formed a half circle around Typhon without even a whisper of sound. One who stood right in front of Typhon faced him with a disciplined confidence as he again spoke his alien language. The red gargoyle just glared in silent stoicism at the black clad human.

"Leave here, oni," the ninja quietly warned, "You trespass on blessed ground. You will not defile it with you presence."

Typhon just crossed his arms in defiance at the ninja as he continued to glare. He had to admit how moderately impressed he was with the skills these humans so far had demonstrated, for indeed he now knew them to be human from their biological smells. He never thought humans could be capable of such discipline and skill, for clearly they may give him a good challenge. However it was still pitiful how they used their abilities to guard a single *thing.*

"I shall leave, human," Typhon declared, "once I have what I came for. Allow me to retrieve it and I shall leave you all in peace and unharmed."

The ninja leader's only response was silence, a quick flick of his thumb revealed the gleam of a slender sheathed sword at his side. The others seemed to become tenser, frozen where they stood to become living statues.

Typhon quickly became weary of the humans' standoffishness, so he just stepped forward as he began to stubbornly push his way through the semi-circle of ninjas, saying, "Out of my way."

With unseen quickness the ninja leader had drawn his slender sword to unexpectedly slash diagonally across Typhon's barreled chest, up his face to barely miss his eye. He staggered back a step or two, grunting more from surprise and irritation rather than pain. In the half second it happened, Typhon opened white hot glowing eyes to see all seven of the ninjas now wielding drawn slender swords and poised for battle. Typhon wiped at the shallow cut on his right cheek to find his fingers covered with fresh wet blood a shade deeper than his own scarlet coloring. Thrusting out his jaw as he clenched his teeth he then drew his own sword from his belt, a kind of short broad sword like those used by ancient Roman gladiators. With one flick of his wrist it spun in a rapid circle and began to faintly glow with an inner power.

In the next half second Typhon readied for battle with his drawn sword, legs apart, and his other sharp ridged arm held up for a shield; the ninja warriors made impressive-for humans-leaps into the air, their long slender swords readied for the first strikes.

The ninjas came at him in a rapid wave as living night, movements fluidic as serpents in their silent grace to then deliver a deadly fearsome strike with long swords as their fangs. One by one they struck at Typhon with deadly accuracy in a dance of swordsmanship and ancient ninjitsu fighting arts. But Typhon stayed them with his own warrior skills, striking at them with his own ferocity with an uncanny speed that defied his large size.

The scarlet New Olympian met the ninjas' challenge with a warrior's courage and skill honed over decades of training, all of his body was put to use in battle as an extension of himself. As human ninjas converged on top of him, swords gleaming with sharp light, Typhon flared his wings with a sharp leathery snap to send some of them flying backwards to land with hard bodily thumps. Simultaneously three more went for the attack as they gave attack screams, their long swords prepared to draw blood, Typhon met them all head on as he back handed one with his sharply ridged arm to cut deep wounds into soft human flesh; another dared to clash swords with the red gargoyle to only then get a literal shock as the ninja's long sword acted as a conductor with its metal blade to electrify its wielder into a painful unconsciousness; and yet the third ninja attempted to strike at him from below to then be kicked hard in the chest by Typhon's large foot.

Two of the fallen ninjas chose to attack from behind, one readying his sword for a fatal strike, the other attempting to strike from below. Typhon sent a frontal assault ninja tumbling backwards from a deadly slash of his electrified sword, a low acoustic hum ionized the surrounding air as it dance in battle. Simultaneously, Typhon struck at the remaining two attacking human warriors, one quickly downed by a whip slash from Typhon's razor sharp spade tipped tail, the other rapidly run through the torso by Typhon's electrified sword as the ninja's own sword cut a deep yet small slash through the thin webbing of Typhon's left wing at the wing's arm near his broad shoulder.

The stabbed ninja gave a yell of pain then was silent a moment later, proof of being dead before sliding with a wet sheathing withdraw from Typhon's gladiator sword.

Typhon looked around at his downed human opponents with satisfaction, a mixed expression of disappointment and grudging intrigue. It was unsurprising these humans proved to be no match for him, skilled fighters though they may have been and all too willing to die for an object. Yet they faced him without fear, as true warriors should.

Sheathing his now blood soaked sword, Typhon made his way to his intended target at the end of the Shinto styled hall. Upon a polished marble pedestal was the item Thailog desired, a statue of a creature sat upon its hind legs while snarling, its image reminded Typhon vividly of his clans' gargbeasts, chiseled from an unknown stone.

He was about to remove the item when a voice rumbled, "Hold!"

He whirled around to witness three more gargoyles entering the hidden hall, two of them familiar to him. For a brief moment he feigned surprise to find Thailog, his crippled ally, standing before him, but it was not. This gargoyle may have resembled Thailog but not only was his coloring different and he was clearly in perfect health, this lavender colored warrior carried himself with a clear commanding presence and a warrior's dignity.

He looked about the scene before him with the fallen ninjas, dead or bleeding to death, with a clear disgust. His gaze then met Typhon's as he said with a disgusted tone, "What have you done here?"

Typhon just glared at Goliath as he said, "This is not your concern."

He quickly grabbed the statue, ignoring Goliath's protest. The next moment an alarm went off as a bared door slid down from the entrance like a high tech Dungun door.

"A trap!" shouted Othello.

The next moment more black clad humans appeared from every conceivable hiding place cloaked within the darkest shadows, swifter than lightening and as silent as the dark side of the Moon. More than two dozen fell as a living rain from the darkened ceiling above, out of the light of a glass skylight with a view open to luminous stars and city lights glowing in the distance.

Had any of the gargoyles noticed, a shadowed figure observed them through the clear crystal glass as the next conflict unfolded around them.

Typhon again drew his sword as Goliath and his companions faced off the surrounding new ninja hoard. Though weapons were drawn, they did not attack but instead remained as still as statues. One stepped from the gathered hoard with a quiet yet commanding discipline, his stride steady and bespoken of many experienced years. Though a mask covered his face, his eyes were as hard as tempered steel as he watched the gargoyles with a hawk's view. A serpentine red dragon graced his chest as a leader.

"Stand down, oni," the new ninja leader ordered with a quiet steel edge to his voice, "Return the sacred komainu or be destroyed."

"I will not be ordered about by the likes of you, human," Typhon snared.

"Don't be a fool stranger," Goliath warned with a rumble, "Return what is theirs, and this needn't end in bloodshed."

Typhon would have been more than happy to if just to leave this worthless human inhabitation, however he still had a task to complete.

"By the honor of Hachiman, leader of the Shadow Dragons," the lead ninja declared as he drew his long ninja sword, "You will return what has been stolen."

"Humans know nothing of honor," Typhon scoffed.

Hachiman's eyes narrowed dangerously as he quietly declared, "Then face the consequences."

As one the ninjas attacked the gargoyles as dark phantoms spawned from the very essence of a living starless night, their stealth and battle skills forged into them as a collective hive mind.

Typhon swung his gladiator sword with exuberance at the nearest attacking ninjas; but they were more weary of the electrified blade, merely dodging from it as Hachiman and several nearby Shadow Dragons made ranks to attack from different angles.

Hachiman made for a thrust with his sword into Typhon's brawny chest, but the scarlet warrior blocked it in time with his spiked arm. But in the half second his focus was on Hachiman and his striking sword, simultaneously several sharp swords struck deep lacerations into his legs, stinging him with enough burning pain to make him loose his balance while a long slender silver chain ending in a sharp arrow tip whipped around his left wrist to then yank his arm out sharply enough to lose his grip on the stone beast statue and send it flying from a high arch into the grasp of another ninja, the one who had thrown the whip chain.

He grabbed the statue in a quick fluidic motion at the same moment the long slender whip chain returned to his hand with just a flick of his wrist.

Typhon eyed the black clad human as he began to make an escape with his prize. Typhon gave a snarl then a roaring cry as he flexed his muscles and flared his wings with a powerful leathery snap to send the building dog pile of ninjas scattering, who had tried to subdue him.

In two impressive bounds he caught up to the human that dared deny him his prize, useless though it is. He grabbed the ninja by his arm to then yank him back so hard he gave a scream of pain at the sound of an ugly pop. The ninja lost his grip on the stone statue as his hand went limp, the statue falling back into Typhon's grasp. The ninja then proceeded to struggle briefly before gathering his wits to draw a sword, only to then be thrown back and hit against a wall hard and go soundlessly limp as a ragdoll.

Typhon held his sword high as he spun it into a 180* grip as though ready to wield it like a long deadly knife.

Typhon eyed the fallen ninja as though observing him, hesitating in his chance to slay his opponent.

"Finish it, oni," the ninja boldly groaned, his voice evidence of a young man coming into his prime.

"I do not fear death," he continued, "Honor me with your final strike. Finish it."

Typhon just glared down at the young ninja as he steadily lowered his sword to then resheath it. He then just turned his back on the young ninja to take his leave as the black clad human groaned in frustration at the gargoyle.

"Foolish human," Typhon growled, "I will not sink to you level, killing a weaker opponent than myself is not the Gargoyle Way."

As Typhon made his way to the closest wall for a quick escape, his keen gargoyle hearing faintly heard the young ninja snare something about not forgetting this insult.

After securing the statue to his belt he made a leap for the wall to make an escape through the skylight. He only took two steps upwards before glancing back at the others, momentarily torn between returning to Nightstone to complete his task or help fellow gargoyles. The situation quickly resolved itself as he watched the three gargoyles end battles with the black clad humans. The lavender warrior tossed several ninjas away from himself with whips of his powerful tail and flares of his large wings while simultaneously fighting off more attacking ninjas in an impressive display of swordsmanship and martial arts moves he had learned from Sata.

The blue grey warrior roared as he punched out several ninjas and threw off any others that tried to throw themselves atop of him while he attempted to make his way to the tanned female, who was holding her own with five other ninjas.

Goliath gazed to the crimson stranger as he began his escape, calling to his companions to do the same as he clashed swords with yet another ninja. Having fought their way to nearby walls for easy grasps, they finally began to make their ascension.

"The demons try to escape! Bring them down!" shouted Hachiman.

Several still standing ninja warriors began throwing deadly sharpened shurikens at the nearest gargoyle, most of the lethal weapons sank deep into the wall plaster to miss their targets by inches. One made a lucky shot to make a laceration into Othello's lower right leg, making him grunt with sharp burning pain.

The gargoyles sped up their climb as shimmering metallic blades shot around them. Moments later they broke through the glass skylight, disappearing from the Shadow Dragons' view.

Hachiman held up a hand with a snap, the Shadow Dragons ceasing their blade throwing. They then began to gather their wounded and dead when Hachiman gave them a stern gaze. He then gazed down at the injured young ninja with a cold icy steel look, his voice neutral but with a hint of the same cold sharp tone as he said,

"You have failed, Raijin."

The young ninja just closed his eyes as he awaited his fate.

Upon the rooftop, three gargoyles gathered to access their injuries while one attempted to leave. Desdemona told Othello to stop doting all over her and she will fine, his leg is more of a problem.

"You're lucky it didn't hit an artery," she said.

He looked down at the deep abrasion, but dismissed it as nothing.

While the lifemates spoke, Goliath caught up with the red stranger in an attempt to speak with him.

"Hold, stranger," he rumbled, "I wish to know why you have taken that statue, what do you hope to gain by stealing it? I warn you now the Yakuza will not forget this transgression, they will seek revenge on you."

"That isn't your concern," Typhon bluntly said.

"It is if you've come to invade my clan's protectorate. Who are you?" Goliath demanded.

"Typhon of New Olympus, that is all you need to know. And I presume you are Goliath, leader of the Manhattan Clan."

"I am. Now why have you taken the statue?"

"As I said, that's none of your concern. Now I take my leave of you." He turned to leave.

"Wait." Goliath grabbed Typhon by the shoulder to only then get punched in the jaw by the red New Olympian; not so hard as to break his jaw, but enough to make it ache. Goliath glared at Typhon with a stubborn hard edged look as he rubbed at his aching jaw.

"I don't wish to be you enemy," he stated, "And if what you say about the humans is true, then heed my words, leader of the Manhattan Clan. Withdraw your clan from this place for they will only suffer for your pride. It's a fool's errand to try making peace with humans."

"And it's a bigger fool who chooses to remain in ignorance," Goliath said with stubborn bluntness, his words slightly slurred by his aching jaw.

Typhon's eyes narrowed dangerously as the two large gargoyles stared off. The next moment a police siren warbled as the sound of car tires hissed up the road. Typhon whipped around at the noise of the siren before looking back at Goliath and his companions in a double take.

He was wasting time here. If this so-called clan leader wanted to let his clan fall into oblivion, then let them. It was not his concern.

He turned away, bounded for the edge and was soon in the air with a mighty flare of wings. As Typhon's aerial silhouette faded away, Goliath eyed the police car on the street below, a smile then widened on his handsome craggy face as he recognized the familiar red and white automobile. Leaping from the rooftop, he glided down to meet the driver, landing with an excited thump the moment she emerged from her car.

"I thought somehow I'd find you here," Elisa said as her door closed, "I heard reports of a blackout for several blocks from Little Tokyo, and saw what looked like a gargoyle's silhouette heading this way and followed it, I thought it was you."

They then embraced, Goliath's great dark wings gently cloaked around her. Othello and Desdemona landed behind them.

"Are you alright, My Love?" he asked his human lifemate as he took note of her, "I had thought you would be getting some rest tonight."

"Just tired," she stubbornly said, "Nothing life threatening has happened to me, but I've been feeling like hell all night."

Goliath gently rubbed her lower back as she lightened her embrace on him and said, "Just tell me what happened and I'll put in a call before heading home."

Her clan gave wry smiles and flustered looked to each other as they began to tell her what happened.

In the shadow of an alley across the street, upon a fire escape Typhon observed the scene below him with morbid curiosity. He then turned away, a bit unsure of what to think.

He was soon gliding in a direction out of the way of Nightstone, unaware of a shadowed figure following him at a discrete distance.


	9. Chapter 9

****A penthouse on 5Th Avenue

As Typhon battled ninjas of the Yakuza for a sacred guardian stone beast, Darius at last completed his task as he carefully removed the computer disk and placed it into a special mystic proof container. The moment he placed the container into his tunic, the lights in the office blazed brightly, momentarily blinding him from having stared at a computer screen, as a voice stammered with surprise,

"What the. . .? Hey you, freak! How'd youse gets in here?"

The burly thug, dressed in only a white T-shirt and jeans, drew a revolver as though out of thin air, and aimed at Darius. He gave off several rounds, which Darius barely avoided as he dodged the shots in an attempt to escape. He first ducked behind the oak polished wooden desk as bullets fired near him to only damage the desk and its contents, nearly destroying the computer into a pile of useless sparking circuits and wires.

The gargoyle sorcerer then made an impressive leap for the door where the thug stood between him and escape, the burly man continued shooting at Darius' path even as he was knocked to the floor with a hard bodily thump. Darius only made two more bounds through the large fancy penthouse as the gunman quickly got to his feet again and a female voice shouted,

"What the hell's going on out there?! Mario, what are you shooting at?"

A young human woman barely into her twenties dashed through the hall from one of the back rooms to suddenly stare wide eyes and open mouthed at the gargoyle intruder. For only a moment Darius stared unmoving at the young female for what could have passed for hours. She was remarkably attractive for a member of the second race with deep black hair with blue highlights, pouty lips like wild barriers, a curvaceous figure blossoming into womanhood accentuated by a white satin lingerie nightgown with thin straps showing supple shoulders and breasts, and a perfect skin complexion like polished creamy marble.

Though Darius saw all of this in a microsecond, his gaze really locked onto her eyes, two orbs of a deep grey blue that appeared to glimmer with specks of pale violet.

Darius gathered his wits again, averting his gaze from the young female as something pinched at the back of his mind. He continued his mad dash for escape as the young woman gave a shriek of irritation and fear as the burly gunman shouted,

"Miss Silvia, get down!"

But she just stood frozen as a statue in place, Darius resuming his attempt at escape as Mario began shooting again.

The gunman's weapon did little to sway Darius from his path to freedom, only causing extensive damage to the high class penthouse as stray bullets destroyed expensive trinkets, high class furniture and décor, to leave bullet holes in rare art works and into the walls.

As the glass doors to the terrace came into view, a thin smile came to his thinner lips as his escape was at hand. But this became hindered as three more gargoyles appeared in the doorway, one rumbled with a deep husky voice to say,

"Hold it, Laddie."

Darius recognized two of them from the council, the Manhattan Clan elder, who had his sword drawn, and the scrawny webbed winged one, the third was a hefty aquamarine male he did not know. Darius skidded to a halt in his tracks when they landed hard in front of him.

"Darius," Lexington hissed as his eyes glowed dangerously bright.

"I'm flattered you remember me, young mechanic," Darius responded as he straightened his posture.

Lexington just growled from deep within his small chest.

The click of a gun made the gargoyles look in its direction as Mario held his weapon to them. In full view, Silvia stood near him with her hands on her hips with an arrogant thrust to better accentuate her feminine figure.

"So there really are flying monsters in New York. I always thought cousin Tony was just exaggerating, he always was such a spoiled brat when getting attention," the young woman stated with an arrogant tone of someone who always got her way.

"Dracon," Broadway snared as his own eyes began to glow.

"So you do know my screw up of a cousin. How nice." Silvia showed perfect pearly white teeth with an unfriendly smile.

"That doesn't matter right now. Get out of my house or I'll have Mario here see how tough you rhino hided bats really are." She moved with an inhuman preternatural grace to her bodyguard and lightly slid a slender hand over his broad shoulder, a gesture he seemed to enjoy.

Hudson held up his hand before Broadway made a move he may later regret, simply saying, "Aye, we shall, young lass, as soon as the rogue here returns what he steals from your home."

"I don't have time for this," he stated irritably, "I have business to take care of."

"If you don't return what you stole, we're gonna take care of you, pal," Broadway challenged with a fist.

Darius just laughed as he said, "Like there's anything of *true* value to me here. But another time perhaps. Come forth, my pets!"

With a wave of his hand, an eerie green mist engulfed him as it formed into two hideous beasts while simultaneously making Darius seemingly disappear. The beasts growled menacingly as their eerily glowing eyes observed the gargoyles and humans, a disturbing hunger upon their hideous features.

"Not these guys again," groaned Lexington as the druj pounced for their first attack.

Attacking in opposite directions, one druj made for an attack on the gargoyles, Broadway punching hard on the beast between the eyes; the other went for the humans, Mario emptying slugs into the beast's skull until his revolver only clicked. Both druj just shrugged off the defense attacks to just growl at them.

"I think we just made them mad," Broadway said as the druj made for another attack.

The other druj leaped at the humans with an ugly snarl, Mario grabbed Silvia out of the way at the same time Hudson jumped onto the beast, sinking his sword deep into its back with difficulty as its claws snagged on Silvia's nightgown, creating huge tares in the long satin skirt.

"My gown!" she screamed, her attractive features twisting into anger.

While the others struggled with an attacking drug, Lex rapidly turned around, knowing something was wrong. He spotted Darius leaping from the outside terrace as he took to the air.

"No you don't, Darius," Lex hissed as he ran on all fours after the necromancer.

His high pitched roar caught the yellow Persian's attention as he tried to make for a swift attack. But Darius just evaded him as Lex dove for him.

Swiftly spreading his arms to catch enough air, Lex circled for another attack on the taller gargoyle, shouting to him, "You won't get away this time, Darius!"

"Is that so, my young friend?" he mocked, "You know what my pets are capable of. You have two choices; try capturing me or help your friends."

Darius just smirked as Lex's eyes narrowed to razors.

"You bastard!" the olive green gargoyle yelled, "Damn you, Darius! Just once I wish the villain didn't pull this cliché."

Lex swiftly turned back for the penthouse to aid his clan.

"Villain indeed," Darius harrumphed as he glided his way back to Nightstone. The ever naïve ideals of youth.

When Lex made it back, both the druj just vanished into puffs of smoke. Hudson and Broadway looked around in confusion as they straightened from awkward positions.

"Those things were tough," Broadway said as he shook his aching hands, "Where'd they go?"

"Back to whatever nether region that vile rogue summoned them from, no doubt," Hudson said as he sheathed his sword.

A loud banging clatter made the gargoyles jump as many pieces of broken porcelain scattered on the floor, clearly a broken vase.

"GET OUT!" Silvia shouted, grabbing another glass trinket from a shelf to throw at the gargoyles.

"Animals!" she shrieked as the object shattered on impact, "Damn you, I'll make you pay!"

The gargoyles dashed for the terrace and soon took flight, seeing the futility in trying to reason with Silvia Dracon.

"Sheesh, what a spoiled bitch," Broadway grumbled. Normally he would never say such a thing about a female, but here he made an exception, because something about her just rubbed him the wrong way.

Had any of them noticed, Silvia's eyes seemed to become several shades greyer than normal, her chest heaved as she breathed hard in an attractive way.

"It's okay, Miss Silvia," Mario tried to reassure her, "They won't hurt you again."

Silvia took a deep calming breath as she turned to her burly bodyguard.

"No, you're right. They won't."

He smiled at her as he embraced her.

"Now where were we before being so rudely interrupted?" she asked coyly as she walked her fingers up his broad chest to then grab a handful of his shirt, "Oh, yes, I remember. C'mere, boy toy."

Mario just giggled as she dragged him away.

****The Eyrie Building

He finally reached his destination, deep in the building's heart where his simple task was to be done. The room which housed the main computer system for Xanatos Enterprises was quiet and deserted at this time of night, just as Thailog said it would be. The task may prove simple enough to accomplish, yet he could not help but still be impressed with this latest upgrade, a 'cloak' rendering him all but invisible to both the naked eye and the most high tech detection devices. The only way he would be seen was by the most observant eye as he made empty air glimmer and wave as he moved like a silent phantom.

Silently stepping up to a computer consol against the walls, buttons and switches flickered and flashed before him in a rhythmic electronic dance only they and their human operators understood, an invisible tentacle emerged from the cloaked Coldsteel's arm gauntlet to embed and merge itself into the computer. The silver android's electronic brain began calculating several thousand gigabytes a second as it linked with the main computer system and carry out its programmed task.

Had he been visible, his eyes would have been seen to glow a deep crimson. From his view, various complex mathematic formulae rapidly flashed before his peripheral vision as his systems linked up with the XE software on an untraceable wavelength.

Had the gargoyle spirit within not observed carefully as he uploaded the link while simultaneously downloading needed files, he almost would have missed something fascinating that immediately caught his attention.

"Well, well, what have we here?" he said with an unseen smirk, "I thought you all destroyed, but I must say it almost does my heart glad to see you yet survive, if just barely, even within a cyber space limbo."

He gave a low evil laugh as his cybernetic brain set this new information aside for further study at a later time as he refocused on completing his assigned task, which will be done in another few seconds.

In a higher part of the building, a place where Coldsteel once called home, a suave businessman gave a familiar signature smirk as he sat at his desk typing away at his computer. Only a short while before he had been alerted to the presence of an intruder to his building, and then to his interbusiness computer system being hacked a few minutes later. Had he not known what frequency to look for he would have missed it completely.

"Nice try," Xanatos smirked to himself, "But try hacking this."

He pressed the *send* button on his keyboard.

In a nanosecond, Coldsteel suddenly felt a sharp stinging jolt surge up his arm and course through his android body causing brief but burning pain. He gave a sharp yell as his body flickered in and out of vision until he was able to pull his tentacle away from the wall counsel and appear in complete view.

At that moment, a heavy set man with glasses and a white lab coat happen to step into the computer room to see a sparking Coldsteel stumble. He gave a shout at the monstrous android but Coldsteel took his chance to flee before the computer scientist could call for security.

His rocket thruster fired as he took to the air to fly back to Nightstone, but he faltered slightly in his trajectory as the effects of the mysterious surge continued to play havoc with his systems. It was enough to make him fly close to the view of Castle Wyvern high atop the Eyrie Building where he spotted two small gargoyles soaring around the castle's perimeter, his former host's preadolescent hatchlings.

"Hey, that's Coldsteel," yelled the green male.

"What in the name of the Dragon is he doing here?" shouted the red female.

"I don't know, but let's get him!"

The twins made a dive for him, the silver android dodging out of their way as one or the other came at him from his right then his left. Ariana had made contact with Coldsteel's head with her wooden Bo, but he did not even notice it and just kept trying to keep out of their range.

With the power surge coursing through his metallic body to cause critical malfunctions, Coldsteel had enough sense to know he was not up for a fight just now.

"Another time, children," he shouted as he fought through his delirium to correct his course and fly to his destination.

"I hope we're not in trouble for this," Graeme said grimly, his sister nodding as they flew back to the castle.


	10. Chapter 10

****St. Patrick's Cathedral

"Apollo," Typhon softly called as he landed in the darkened loft hidden above the famous cathedral, the same place he has roosted during the day since coming to Manhattan.

"Where are you, boy?"

From a darkened corner a dog with a dark golden coat dashed up the gargoyle with his tongue lopping out and his tail wagging like a flag. The dog gave Typhon a few licks on the face as he scratched him behind the ears and said,

"I'm sorry for taking so long, Apollo. When this last task is done we will leave."

"Funny, I didn't take you for the religious type," said a female voice from behind.

Typhon leaped into a battle stance at the sound of the voice, eyes lit, wings flared, and talons ready to rip, Apollo barking loudly. But they both relaxed in posture when Typhon saw who the voice belong to, the blue female he had battled days before, only her hair was far redder with a few highlights of red gold and she wore a ragged two piece outfit.

"Well, Fury," he laughed, "Have you come for a rematch? I would indeed welcome it, but this isn't the time nor the place."

"I'm not here to fight," Demona scowled as she crossed arms, "I'm here to get answers. I know who your allies are and who you're all working for. But I see that your different, unlike the others you don't have a vendetta against the clan. So I want to know what business you have in Manhattan, and why seek it at Nightstone."

"I work for no one, Fury," Typhon stated with a bit of wounded pride as he set to calm a growling Apollo, "As to why I'm here that's no one's concern but my own. But you needn't worry about it any longer, for I have decided to leave this wasteful human city tomorrow night. My so-called alliance has been nothing but a waste and I will no longer partake in Thailog's pointless vendetta with the humans."

Demona cocked her head a bit at this last statement, trying to make sense of the red stranger. What really caught her attention was his slight snare of the last word.

"You clearly have no love for humans," she said, "So why end your alliance with Thailog if you share a common goal for using and abusing them, if not destroying them outright?"

"You misjudge me, Fury. I know humans are deceitful and untrustworthy, and are best avoided. The humans in ancient times were the enemies of my clan's ancestors and their allies, but that was centuries ago. There is no honor in what Thailog does, but he can do whatever he wants with the humans as long as I'm so longer part of it. The humans are only my enemy if they challenge me in battle or threaten an innocent under my protection."

For but a moment Demona found herself entranced by what this stranger had said, but quickly shook herself from it as she asked, "So why are you allied with Thailog if you don't trust him?"

"As I told you, that's my concern alone. My clan has done well on our own for centuries and we don't need outside help."

"That doesn't answer my question," Demona said stubbornly.

Typhon gave a huff as he said, "It's simply not your clan's concern. Now take your leave of me and tell your leader I'm withdrawing from here, and to heed my advice of foolishly allying with humans."

"As wholeheartedly as I agree with you, I'm more or less not part of the Manhattan Clan."

Typhon cocked an eye ridge.

"I also came to warn you, whatever Thailog has told you it's all lies. Nightstone is _my_ company, which he stole from me several months ago and I want it back. Whatever he has planned for the humans is only the beginning, but I could care less about that. My only concern is what he'll do with it to gargoyles, especially my precious daughter. If you can help me find a way to bring him down I can help you with your own quest and what you seek."

"I'm already aware of the lies and half truths Thailog tells, and he dares call himself a gargoyle. And he's made the same offer with no results. How is yours different?"

"I have ways of finding out about what happens in this city, and I have talents he can only dream about, such as studies in magic. And I can avoid stone sleep."

Typhon's eyes widened a bit as a thought began to dawn on him.

"You are Demona. Icarus told of your uninvited attendance to that ridiculous council. It's unclear what your intentions were then, but if you had reason to lie I won't be so easily fooled."

"I've met Icarus. An intelligent male, but brash and impulsive."

"So impulsive he has disappeared again. Very well, no more games. I don't completely trust you, but I can see you're trying. Exactly how can I be sure you will hold up your end of the bargain?"

"A show of good faith. If my suspicions are right you seek to find the missing Icarus and bring him home. I can find ways of locating him, but I can't promise that they'll be quick. But I can show you a place I suspect he may try to go to."

"And what do you expect me to do in return?" Typhon inquired as he eyed her carefully.

"I implore you to maintain your 'alliance' for now. Tell me of any activities or plots he has planned, but say nothing about me. For now I must remain in the shadows."

"You must hate him very much to risk such subterfuge. Your offer is tempting, but I've grown weary of being used. As you said, all I wish to do is find my wanderlust rookery brother and bring him home to New Olympus. It's essential I do it soon, not only for disciplining by the clan but also for the safe keeping of my home's secret location for fear of humans finding it."

"When necessary I'm quite good at keeping secrets," Demona said with a smile as she placed a hand on her slightly thrust hip, "Give me a chance to prove myself and I promise you won't be disappointed."

Typhon eyed her for a moment as he tried to figure he true intentions. He then gave a wry smile as he said, "You are an enigma, Fury. Though I always preferred the thrill of challenge on the battlefield, even a warrior must know patience and cunning, otherwise the warrior is merely a brute. I will hold you to your word, Fury, but fail to keep it and I leave this decrepit human city before sunrise tomorrow night."

"You have my word I won't fail you," Demona said with determination as she extended her hand, "I'm Demona."

"Typhon." He grasped her arm in the traditional warrior's hold.

"If I have something to tell you about what goes on at Nightstone how will I find you?"

"I'll find you," Demona said as she began to depart, "I'll meet you here again at midnight."

As she turned to take her leave, a smile unconsciously lit her lovely face, a kind of smile she has not allowed herself since her love struck younger days at Castle Wyvern.

When she became naught but a dark silhouette in the night with Typhon watching her with an intrigued and critical eye, he then pressed his belt buckle which began to blink.

A faint gust of wind which signaled the arrival of a gargoyle on the wind whooshed about the darkened loft, making Apollo perk his ears and give a faint curious wine. Typhon turned to face a human man with a winged helmet and sandals, but he did not attack nor frighten the human.

"Greetings, Hermes," Typhon said with a nod of acknowledgement.

"Greetings, Typhon. What do you have to report?" Hermes removed a silver high tech pad and pen from a satchel at his side as Typhon reported his most current finding to the New Olympian messenger.

When his report was complete, Hermes disappeared like the wind as he dashed away.

Not long after Hermes departed, Typhon finally returned to Nightstone an hour before dawn.

He was hours behind Coldsteel, who was the first to return and go to Thailog's top cyberneticists after feeling the nauseating effects of the mysterious electrical surge; and then Darius returned to give his stolen information to Thailog and then retire to a private chamber set aside just for him, where he placed his newest magical prize next to an ancient Viking battle ax.

Typhon stomped to the wounded gargoyle CEO's desk and slammed the stone statue down with a hard bang.

The loud noise aroused the warning growl from a yellow-green beast that had been dozing by Thailog's side, and making his ever present human companion jump from her seat on the desk.

The beast growled low from his massive chest as his eyes glowed bright red, Thailog commanding to him, "Down, boy."

Typhon showed no fear towards the beast, but nevertheless eyed it wearily.

"You must forgive, Anaheim," Thailog smirked, "He can be very protective of me."

He got a bit more serious as Typhon just remained silent and ever stoic.

"You're cutting it very close. What took you so long?" Thailog demanded.

"Personal matters that are none of your business," Typhon said blatantly, "The agreement of this alliance is I do these ridiculous tasks for you in exchange for your assistance in finding my brother and the safe keeping of New Olympus' secret. No questions asked."

Thailog gave a grim smile that seemed to worsen his already damaged homely features as he said, "As you wish."

Typhon then took his leave, gliding on the winds to his private roost, Anaheim growling after him.

"He certainly is stubborn," his companion said, "What do you think he's hiding?"

"It doesn't matter right now," Thailog dismissed with a smirk as he held the stolen statue, "I'll have his secrets soon enough. Speaking of which."

Though Thailog has suffered from the ill effects of his burn wounds for the long part of his short life, his physical strength was not completely lacking. With a mighty crash the statue of the sacred Shinto beast got smashed into many crumbed pieces. What only remained intact were two small items hidden within, a small roll of film and a mini computer disk.

"A couple of nice little additions to my most recent commodities, wouldn't you agree, Shari?"

"Of course, Thailog," Shari concurred, "But I can't help but think you could've acquired some of these things by more subtler means."

"True," Thailog sighted, "The recent buy-outs of many of the city's smaller subsidiaries were easy enough, especially the buy-outs with Maddox Technologies. Now that there pixie boss is pushing up iron daisies they were all too easy for the pickings since they decided to sell their company. Besides, you know how these mafia types are about keeping their secrets, unless you know where to look and how to push their buttons."

He gave a low laugh, Shari simply remained silent as she continued to listen.

"Doing things the subtle way may be more practical, but where's the fun in that."

They shared a brief laugh for a moment as Thailog then pressed his desk commlink and said to it, "Fergus, send her in."

The polished office doors opened and a statuesque woman with bright red hair, an hourglass figure, and athletic build entered with a brisk strut but also with an air of discipline and dead seriousness. She wore a tight form fitting black body suit highlighted with deep red and on her back she carried two short tachis and a utility belt that may have carried and assortment of weapons.

"Shari, meet Vixen; mercenary for hire and the newest member of the Ultra Pack, she'll be filling for a while for Hyena while she recovers from her current condition." The two women gave nods of acknowledgement to each other, and nothing more. "Mr. Kimura recently hired her to assassinate Nitro Nicky G, and the results were very impressive. I definitely say she's earned her chance to be part of the Nightstone family for a while, seeing as how we are in need of new blood."

"Thank you, Mr. Thailog, but I do what needs to be done to get results, and I expect to be well paid," Vixen said with a neutral but serious tone.

"Of course, Vixen," Thailog just said with an arrogance smile, "I expect nothing less. You're dismissed."

Vixen then left his office with the same brisk strut, Thailog then became a bit more introspective.

"I know most of the night's plan worked, even if it didn't turn out exactly as I had expected. The acquisitions of my associates were successful in one way or another, as was the bomb testing. The war on the streets, and confusing the police and the clan is entertaining enough, but one thing now bothers me. How did Xanatos find a way to detect Coldsteel's cloak? Someone must've given him the frequency, and I'll find out who. And when I do, I'll make him think twice before betraying me again."

Again Thailog gave a low menacing laugh, Shari simply shared it with a small smile.


	11. Chapter 11

****Elisa's apartment

It had been a long night and had felt never ending. This was not what she had expected for her post-honeymoon time, but then she should have known that a cop's work is never done and crime never takes a holiday.

She tried to tell herself she has had worse nights, but with the exhausted way she has been feeling tonight it was quickly getting up there with her personal top ten.

Not two hours after she finally got to her apartment earlier that night, as she prepared for a quiet night of rest in front of the TV and then to meet Goliath later in the night for some quiet welcome home time, Matt had called her about a dead body. She had spent much of the night helping with paperwork on the murdered mobster, Nitro Nicky G, and tried to help with investigating about the latest attacks in the growing gang war between the New York mafia and the Yakuza.

The stress of the night seemed to get worse when her arch nemesis, Tony Dracon, informed her about Nicky G working on an EMP bomb from Maddox Technologies, a nightmare of the past she and the clan had thought they had put behind them.

Not only had traffic away from Riker's been terrible, but it may have been an after effect of a mysterious blackout that that occurred hours before from somewhere on Manhattan within several miles of Little Tokyo or any of the neighboring areas. Not only was all power out within that general area, but most electronic devices within the outside perimeter stopped working properly or stopped working hours later.

Elisa began to have her suspicions about this blackout but didn't want to think about them at the moment.

Somehow she had found Goliath as she drove deep into the blacked out neighborhood, and he had looked disturbed and upset until he saw her. Though he had worried for her, somehow they always drew strength from each other just by being in each other's arms. He only began to brood again as he told her about his and his patrol mates encounter with a mysterious new gargoyle named Typhon, their fight with a hoard of ninjas, and Typhon's theft of a mysterious relic.

She also was not too surprised about what she had been told about this Typhon's opinion about humans, if he really was from New Olympus.

She then returned to the station after taking the gargoyles' statements, anonymously of course, to try and finish the night's paperwork before returning home. It was only then to discover hours after hearing about the successful undercover police raid at the illegal underground strip club, it had been mysteriously destroyed.

This just meant more police work and in turn more paperwork. Although Elisa was not officially on the case she wanted to help out how ever she could.

Though an investigation would start in the morning, Matt and Elisa already had their suspicions.

As she completed paperwork, her stress seemed to just get worse as she heard more of the clan try to put in their own reports of more robberies or attempted robberies. She told them that it would be best to compare notes later, she had enough on her plate already.

Although several mysteries seemed to continually pile on top of each other like a never ending landslide throughout the night, it was the small things that seemed to get to Elisa the most. Along with migraines that kept coming and going, she felt hungry for the weirdest things and Randy again kept bothering her in one form or another all just for his teenage angst and attempt to charm her.

She almost lost her temper at him but finally told him to leave her alone as she finally left for home.

And now all she wanted was some well earned rest.

Elisa closed her apartment door a little harder than she intended, startling her pewter grey cat, Cagney, and a loan woman sitting on her living room couch.

"Mom, what're you doing here?" Elisa looked up when she finally stopped grumbling to herself and took notice of her mother. Though she was always glad to see her mother, she was not really in the mood for company at the moment.

"Hi, Honey. I've been here most of the night," Diane got up from the couch and gave her oldest child a bear hug.

"You told me you were going to be home getting some rest," she said bit annoyed, but then softened, "But in your line of work, just like your father, no rest for the weary. We must've missed each other by a few minutes because I came right over to hear all about your trip."

"Okay, Mom, I just want to freshen up first. It's been a long night. Besides, I thought you'd be asleep at home."

Diane just scoffed, "We both know our extended family keeps very strange hours. Elisa? Are you okay, Honey? You do look awful."

Although a smile brightened her daughter's face, Diane could see the circles under Elisa's eyes and slightly ashen complexion. There was also something else to her features, something familiar she could not quiet place, a kind of glow about her.

"Are you hungry?" Diane asked with concern.

"Yeah, Mom, but I don't know if I can eat. I just stopped by a general store for a microwave dinner and a bunch of beef jerky, I had such a weird craving. I'm hungry and nauseous all at the same time. I just want to collapse into bed."

"Forget that microwavable crap," Diane said with scorn, "I'll make you a _real_ dinner. How about a grilled steak with mushrooms and onions?"

"Sounds heavenly, Mom."

Diane finally shooed her daughter away to have her freshen up while she made dinner. Although it was nearly sunrise, for those like her daughter it was dinner time.

Elisa eyed the bag of pills and medicine Tess had bought for her earlier that night, one product in particular. As a gag to herself, she decided to give it a try, if just for a laugh.

God knows she could really use one right now.

Fifteen minutes later, Diane Maza nearly had a wonderful homemade dinner made for her daughter. Elisa was a sensible enough cook, but she never did have the time nor the passion for the culinary arts. It was Beth who had inherited her mother's cooking talents.

Just as Diane set Elisa's steak dinner on the table, a loud crash emanated from the master bathroom. Motherly instincts honed over many years kicked in as Diane ran for the bathroom, afraid of what might have happened to her daughter.

"Elisa?!" Diane shouted as she banged on the door, "Elisa, are you all right?!"

No answer.

Diane banged and yelled again, but Elisa still did not answer.

Fearing the worst, Diane forced her way into the bathroom, which was miraculously unlocked. The scene before her was not quiet what she had expected.

Hygiene and bathroom products lay scattered across the tile floor among bathroom rugs and towels and wash clothes. The plastic shower curtain had several holes ripped from its rings and now hung loosely and badly torn.

But Elisa was not unconscious in the tub, which Diane silently thanked God for.

Instead Elisa was sitting against the wall next to the tub, she wore nothing but a bath towel, her hair was damp and fell like dark raven water over her shoulders and back. She had her arms wrapped tightly around her legs which were against her chest, and her eyes were wide as she stared off to some far off distance but saw nothing.

"Elisa?" Diane called gently to try coaxing her daughter out of her trance.

But Elisa did not answer, but continued to stare off into space.

Diane then notice the only undisturbed item on the bathroom sink. It looked like a thermometer one would find at any doctor's office, but Diane immediately recognized it for what it really was.

Quickly finding its box she read the directions, then checked the results.

She checked twice to be sure there was no mistake. Numbness engulfed Diane Maza as she looked at her daughter, understanding growing.

"Oh, Elisa."

End of episode 6.


End file.
